What We Lose
by lilyamongthorns
Summary: Sequel to Mind and Hand. Pre-IM. Twelve years was an immense amount of time to be devoted to one person and practically statistically impossible for him. Pepper and Tony face challenges of being co-workers and lovers. Pepperony. Rhodey/OC
1. Yellow

AN: Here we go again. I'm hoping you'll enjoy this. I'm relying on you to tell me if this gets unrealistic because it is quite a different concept. I don't want to have the characters do or say anything they would never do. Tony and Pepper's relationship is, in my opinion, forever and always a rocky one. There will never be a perfect life for them with marriage and the whole shebang. Things with Iron Man, SI, and SHIELD are always putting them in danger and complicating things. They aren't your typical couple, and I think a lot of fics such as these can be impractical.

Anyways, I've said too much already. *zips lips*

Also, my other IM fic, The Key for Winding Up My Heart, is still in process. I've received a few reviews there as well because of the popularity of Mind and Hand. I haven't abandoned that project yet, but I need suggestions for it. If read that story, and you'd like to give a suggestion, PM me.

-O-O-O-

_December, 2007_

_Yellow - Coldplay_

-O-O-O-

"These or these?"

Pepper looked up from her paperwork in her lap to see Tony standing in front of her dressed to the nines: a pinstriped suit with black lapels, a red and gold tie around his neck over a crisp white button down. However, his shoes were the one thing about the wardrobe that didn't fit. They were both different. Pepper raised an eyebrow at him, and he gestured to his feet.

One shoe was a black and grey skate sneaker with a white sole. The other foot sported a black sneaker with red piping. Their respective mates hung in Tony's hand, hooked by their tongues with two of his fingers. Tony Stark was the only man she ever knew to ask her opinion on shoes, instead of the other way around.

She pointed her pen towards the grey sneakers. "Those."

He leaned forward, using her shoulder for leverage while he tugged off the rejected shoe.

"Is there any fuel in this joint?" he shot at a passing lighting assistant, who looked stunned like a deer in the headlights, trying to work out what he'd said.

"He means coffee," Pepper translated, "And yes."

"Get me some, would ya? Thanks, love." He shot her a wink before sauntering off towards the camera.

Pepper smirked and shook her head, watching him walk away. GQ had been hounding them for months for a photo shoot, and Tony's schedule was finally clear enough. Though, after this, he had a conference call with a company in Japan and a luncheon with Ballard Power Systems where he was expected to present a draft of a new, more efficient fuel cell, which he had yet to finish—or even begin.

She watched from her spot on the sofa, near the table stacked with various snacks and coffee for the crew. He was hamming it up for the camera, making silly faces, them serious ones, and a few that Pepper recognized from late nights spent wearing very little clothing as they worked their way through a bottle of wine.

After a few moments, she rose and prepared him a cup of coffee at the table. Two creams, and three sugars. Much too sweet for her own taste, but he insisted on drinking it this way.

In nearly ten years, she'd never been offended by anything Tony asked her to do. Some might look at the way Tony treated her as ill-mannered or indifferent. But this was her job, regardless of the status of their romantic relationship. Her duties ranged from arranging meetings, managing his schedule, preparing paperwork to making his coffee or picking up his lunch. Even the occasional dry-cleaners run wasn't beyond her, and she had lost count of how many times she'd handled his drunk party guests the morning after. She remained professional and sophisticated throughout it all. But one thing that irked her nerves, one thing that made her want to throttle him was the flippancy with which he treated the company. He was late for meetings, countless flights, sometimes purposely ignored the schedule she'd so meticulously organized. But she could never stay mad for long. She'd never had the propensity to yell or argue. Her anger—when applicable—was much more quiet and contained.

She turned from the table, pressing a lid to the paper coffee cup. Her designer heels clicked across the concrete flooring as she made her way over to him where he was getting his hair rearranged by a makeup artist. He batted her hands away when he saw Pepper coming.

"Oh, thanks beautiful." He took the cup from her hands and sipped it, testing the taste and temperature. Perfect as always. "Hey, could you do me one more favor?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"Join me over here." He tugged her forward in front of the camera. Her heel caught briefly on the white fabric laid against the floor, but almost as if he'd planned it, his lips caught hers when she fell against him.

"Great! Let's get some more of that!" the camera man asked, egging them on.

But Pepper pulled away, blushing. "No, I don't think so." She tried to make a break for it, but a camera flash caught her by surprise.

"Come on, Pep. Just a few." He took a long swig from his coffee cup before passing it off to someone to hold. His hand held tight to Pepper's making sure she didn't try and escape again.

"Oh, you're going to pay for this," Pepper sing-songed through smiling teeth, faking it for the camera.

"I hope so," he answered, tugging her closer by the hip and the camera shutter whirred again.

It was no secret to the world that Tony and Pepper had been exclusively dating for almost twelve years. She'd caught quite a bit of heat in the beginning. They were articles questioning her qualifications, insinuating that Tony had only hired her on a whim for his own personal pleasure. Even worse were the ones that had accused him of hiring her out of pity.

But over the years, they had become quite an iconic couple, almost as popular as Brad and Angelina. That wasn't to say that everything was always perfect. There had been several break-ups which never lasted too long. There had been that very nasty affair a few years ago, but the press had made things seem worse than they had actually been. The couple had resolved the issue long before the Associated Press had lost interest.

After a few more shots, some getting rather heated, Pepper hurried away back to her spot on the sofa. She heard Tony negotiating with the camera man which shots he would include in the magazine. That was something Pepper always admired about him; he was very defensive about what was and was not publicized about her.

The cameraman called it a wrap, and Tony and Pepper made a quick exit for the Bentley outside where Happy was waiting. Pepper typed away on her Blackberry, while Tony took a phone call from Japan.

There were often times like this, where both of them were completely absorbed in work, entirely separate entities. It didn't mean their relationship was weakening; it was just part of the job.

But today, as Tony communicated rapidly in Japanese with the business man on the other line, his hand came up to brush against her forearm before dropping to her thigh. She accepted the touch, but didn't respond, focused on the email she was finishing. It wasn't a seductive touch, but simple and tender.

She had tuned out the conversation he was having next to her, not that she could understand it anyways. But his fingers drummed against her thigh, trying to get her attention, and she looked up.

"What's in the books for February?" he asked, holding the phone against his shoulder.

Wordlessly, she bent to retrieve the tablet from the side pocket of her purse. Without releasing the hold on her phone, she tapped the fingers of her free hand against the screen until she reached the calendar. She slid across the months over to February, passed it to him, and went back to her phone. Working with Stark Industries meant she was always equipped with the latest technologies, and some that hadn't even been on the market yet. Long before Tony's decision that the company would reduce paper consumption, Pepper had kept an electronic schedule. It was much more compact that way, and easy to edit on short notice.

Just as they reached the gates of the mansion, he ended the call and handed the phone and tablet back to her. "I'm going to need the jet ready on February second for Japan. Take note of that."

She did so, quickly and efficiently before Happy even had time to stop at the front door.

"Thanks, Hap." Tony stood from the car, but bent to stick his head back inside. "Hey, Rhodey and Liz are coming over tonight, right?" he asked her.

"Yes, indeed they are." She nodded and smiled. Rhodey and Lizzie had married last year and Lizzie was already six months along with their first child.

"Cool. See you later." He slammed the door and blew her a kiss through the window. She shook her head and went back to her phone.

She was headed back to headquarters to meet with accounting and PR. Tony hadn't been bothered to attend one of those meetings in five years. But it was his fortune, his company, and he could have it the way he wanted as far as she was concerned.

She'd become accustomed to quite an upscale lifestyle because of her job. She never took it for granted, though, that she had a chauffeur almost anywhere—though he preferred the title of "driver" rather than "chauffeur," just as she preferred "personal assistant" over "secretary." She still drove herself most places, except when it was more convenient to call for Happy.

Designer suits and shoes had become the norm, and lavish excursions throughout the world. She'd visited nearly every continent now, either on business with Tony or on vacation with him.

Over the past ten years, things in her personal life had changed dramatically. Both of her parents were lost in a car crash five years ago. Peter had been gone more than ever; after the events of 9/11, he'd felt it was his duty to re-up. He hadn't been home for three months, and that was only for one week's time. But he had permanently moved to California after their parents' death, only a few miles away from Pepper herself.

Happy pulled up to the building that housed her office, and she stepped out, telling him thanks and to have a good day. She enjoyed Happy's company. The two had gotten rather close over the years, but their conversations nowadays were few and far between. Things were always busy and Tony always had one thousand things going on at once.

Her meetings filled up the rest of her day, and she took her own car back to the mansion around five o'clock. When she arrived, Tony was in his workshop, as per usual. She didn't bother to disturb him and began to prepare dinner.

When she'd first moved from LA to Malibu, in order to be closer to him after taking the job, Tony had insisted she live with him. But she needed a place of her own, time to herself. If she had to spend every waking hour with the man, she might just tear his head off. But overnight stays at the mansion were frequent, and she saw her own place only three or four times a week. He'd even come to stay over a few times, but she got the sense that he didn't like to be tied down to a strange place that wasn't his own. She assumed it was an old habit he'd picked up back in his glory days as a playboy in college. He preferred to stay at his own place when taking a girl home, that way he could keep the dominant hand, and make her leave whenever he felt fit.

The girls had stopped—or at least their frequency had hit a steady decline since they began dating. But the alcohol was still a constant battle. Countless times she'd have to pick him up off the floor after one too many drinks, or drag him home from a party, and cover his rear once the press wanted answers. She'd seen the mansion in various states of disarray: broken glass, slashed furniture, people passed out in the yard. There had even been one morning when she arrived to perform her usual damage control and she'd found the Steinway grand piano completely smashed right down the middle, and she'd yet to work out how they could've managed that one. She'd walked in to the middle of one too many couples in the throes of passion in one of the guest rooms.

Customarily, she'd go home to her own apartment when Tony threw these parties, once the fun became a little too wild for her taste. Then, always prompt, at eight AM sharp, she'd see them all out the door with a complimentary handful of aspirin and a bottle of water.

Her reverie was broken when Tony's hands came to rest on her waist, leaving grimy fingerprints on her beige colored blouse.

"Gee, thanks," she sighed, looking down at the motor oil stains.

"No prob. What're ya cooking, good looking?" He reached over and grabbed a slice of tomato from the cutting board she was working at.

"Chicken alfredo and salad. Do you think you can manage putting the bread in the oven?"

He wasn't listening, or at least pretended not to be, and pulled a Gatorade from the fridge.

"Did you go to your luncheon today?"

He gulped the first half of the bottle down before answering. "What luncheon?"

She groaned and began furiously chopping at the lettuce. "Are you serious? There's a schedule for a reason, Tony. Can I not leave you alone for one day and expect you to get things accomplished?"

"Hey," he said, pointing the top of his sports drink in her direction, boosting himself to sit on the black marble counter, "I got a lot of stuff done today. I cleaned out the fuel lines on the Audi, replaced the rotors on the hot rod…"

"Something not pertaining to cars would be nice…"

"Oh!" He said, holding up a finger proudly. "I updated JARVIS's software. It was horrible. I went three whole hours without someone to talk to."

"Oh, you poor baby."

He pointed at her lettuce, now in tiny little bits from her manic chopping. "If you wanted that stuff that small, you might as well just pull out the blender and hit puree."

With a huff, she tipped the cutting board into the sink, washing the wasted vegetables away. "I'll call them tomorrow and try to reschedule. And I will make sure you go this time."

"Mmm…I love it when you're forceful…" he drawled, taking another swig of his drink and pulling her between his knees with his free arm. She propped her hands on his shoulders, inspecting his dirty face. His goatee was smeared with motor oil, and two identical smudges of grease above his eyebrows indicated that he'd been in deep concentration. He had a tendency to use his thumb and forefinger to rub at those areas when he was thinking.

"You smell," she told him.

"I love you, too," he quipped.

She pulled away from his grasp and went back to chopping vegetables for the salad. "Go take a shower. Rhodey and Lizzie will be here at eight."

He leapt off the counter and exited the kitchen, but not before giving her rump a quick, affectionate squeeze.

-O-O-O-

"Sir, Colonel Rhodes and his wife have arrived," JARVIS's staunch English voice informed them at eight on the dot.

Pepper was first at the door, ushering them inside, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over Lizzie's protruding baby bump.

"Women," Tony sniffed, nodding towards where Lizzie and Pepper were on the sofa, cooing over the ultrasound pictures.

"I'm not going to lie, man. I went shopping with her for the nursery yesterday. I think I might be getting sympathy pains," Rhodey said, handing a bottle of champagne over to Tony.

"Don't tell me you're sprouting a uterus now," he replied, shoving the bottle in the ice bucket on the dining room table.

Ten years had completely changed Tony's feelings towards Rhodey. He couldn't quite put his finger on the moment, but because he'd been so close with Pepper, the two had fallen naturally into friendship.

"I'm telling you. Kids change things. You and Pepper have been together how long?"

"Twelve years," he said, leaning his palms against the table, staring over at the redhead and her friend. Now they two women had struck up a conversation about stretch marks and tea tree oil.

"Has she ever said anything to you about marriage or kids?"

"Now I know you've got a uterus. Are you sure you aren't the one that's pregnant? There's a guy I read about in Arizona…"

"Miss Potts, the bread in the oven is ready," JARVIS's voice interrupted, and Pepper rose form the couch to fetch their dinner.

-O-O-O-

After a few glasses of champagne and apple juice for Lizzie, the couple left for home.

With their friends gone, Tony and Pepper retired to the couch, watching television. Tony curled up against her from behind. His hand ran along her abdomen, slipping under the soft silk of her blouse, running against her even smoother skin. He'd had an idea rolling around in his head all night, but he wasn't quite sure how to get it across to her yet. Twelve years was an immense amount of time to be devoted to one person and practically statistically impossible for him. He'd wanted to take a step forward, but he wasn't sure in what direction. Tonight had confirmed it. He just needed to find the right time.


	2. Til Kingdom Come

_December, 2007_

_Til Kingdom Come – Coldplay_

-O-O-O-

He should've been drafting up the new fuel cell to present to Ballard Power Systems for their newly rescheduled luncheon. Or he could've been preparing for his trip to Japan. There were probably six thousand other things he could've been doing at the moment, but instead Tony Stark, billionaire and genius extraordinaire was searching for information about pregnancy.

"_Week 6 of Pregnancy. Your baby's face is taking shape, which is something sweet to think about as you race to the toilet to pee yet again,"_ he read silently from the screen at his desk in the workshop.

That was frightening to even think about. He'd never been around many pregnant women, but he'd never actually thought of the baby as a living, being thing. It was just a big lump that swam around for a while before popping out in the form of a child, as far as he was concerned.

He continued on. _"Week 7 of Pregnancy. Right now, the only things growing faster than your baby's brain may be your tingly, achy breasts."_

His hands flew to his face. "Oh my God. I can't do this. JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?" JARVIS replied immediately.

"Help me out here. What do you think Pepper will say about all this?"

"I believe Miss Potts will accept your proposal of having children. After your dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes, I detected a rise in her oxytocin levels. This could indicate a rise in an instinct to nurture, or it could also mean she desires more intimate time with you. If you follow me, sir."

"Yeah, I got it." He rubbed his hands against his temples.

Did he really want a baby right now? Did he ever want a baby? The idea sounded fun, but this was a forever thing. There was no turning back.

He loved Pepper. There was no doubt. In twelve years, they had never seriously discussed children or marriage. They were both satisfied with what they had. Once, Pepper had said that marriage was just a ring. She was happy with the way things were and she didn't need a ring to show it. Pepper was a woman, but a rare one, and she tended not to get overexcited about things as women often did. He knew if he ever asked her to marry him, she would accept. But it wasn't the first thing on the agenda.

Children were something they had never discussed. He would be lying to say the thought had never crossed his mind, and he knew Pepper had thought about it too. It was only natural after more than a decade.

He could never see Pepper as the soccer mom in the minivan, and she would never go for the idea of managing both kids and the company at the same time. There would have to be a nanny, as much as he hated having a nanny himself when growing up. But on the other hand, he knew Pepper would never allow her children to be solely cared for by a woman other than herself.

Honestly, he didn't know anything about kids. He'd never been around them. They were cute when they were someone else's. But this kid—if they even decided to have one—would be stuck with them for life. They couldn't be sent home, and Tony absolutely refused the idea of boarding school.

It was new, and unknown, but something he was willing to try and discuss with her. It would be a lot of work, take a lot of time. But he wanted to make Pepper happy. And she deserved this.

The dulled click of heels against the stairs jolted him from his thoughts. "JARVIS, close all of that out," he ordered, and made a dash for the creeper where he'd left it by the hot rod.

In one quick shove, he'd pushed himself up under the hood, pretending to be working. JARVIS helped out by cranking up Children Of The Grave by Black Sabbath, indicating to Pepper that he was halfway through his usual playlist and had been working for the last half hour.

Faintly, he heard electronic beeps and the release of the door. "Mute," she said, and JARVIS obeyed.

"Please don't turn down my music," he said, monotone, like he had seventy thousand times before.

"I just have to talk to you about a few things, and I'll leave you alone," she replied.

He turned his head to peek at her black, strappy Prada heels just feet from the car. He licked his lips. "Uh-huh…" He grunted, clanging the wrench against the underbelly of the car, pretending to be doing something important.

Then the heels disappeared, but not for long. Now he could see her feet dangling over the edge of his desk, her legs crossed primly. He heard a shuffling of papers.

"I rescheduled your meeting with Ballard for the eighteenth of January. And I've got several new shipments you need to sign off on, so if you can…"

"Hey, what about the Christmas party?"

"Um..." she sighed. "Well…we're doing the usual thing at Level 3 in Hollywood…I thought…"

"Boring. Let's do The Grand Havana Room…."

"What? Tony…" she sighed. "I've had these reservations for months. Its two weeks away. They won't let us out of it now."

"Oh well." He wheeled himself out from under the car and sat up. "Just switch it. No big deal, right?"

She sighed and stood gracefully from the table, tugging her skirt back into place. "Yeah. No big deal." She was obviously ticked. He'd said the wrong thing. Whoops.

She turned on heel for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked.

"Going to plan your Christmas party. Again," she threw over her shoulder before tugging open the door and clicking her way back upstairs.

-O-O-O-

"_Finished. You're welcome."_

She sent the vengeful text three hours later from her office upstairs. Sometimes she really could kill him. She'd watched enough Lifetime movies to know how to pull it off flawlessly. But doing so would be a waste of energy. These were daily tiffs that often cost more than they were worth.

She had planned to stay the night, but tonight was one of those nights that she needed to be alone. It wasn't entirely his fault. The entire day had been a wreck, and then he had to add the last straw.

In twelve years, she'd learned how to deal with him. Tomorrow, when she walked into her office, there would be a lavish bouquet of flowers. That would be the closest he would come to saying sorry, and then the issue would be considered resolved. That was the routine. It had never bothered her. It was the way they worked. She had more important things to worry about, so she never harped over things like this too long.

If she let it bother her, she would've quit everything a long time ago.

She gathered her things and left her office, already prepping her mind for a long yoga session once she got home. Her phone dinged just as she exited the mansion, indicating she'd received a message.

"_Goodnight. I love you," _he'd typed.

Being in a relationship with Tony was something no degree or job experience could've prepared her for. By no means was she unhappy. She loved Tony, and could never fathom being somewhere else. The times she wanted to rip his head off were no comparison to how much she truly cared for him.

Over a decade, and they were still together. That was all the proof she needed.

She'd often thought of what a life with Tony would look like. Not just the life they had now. But married, and with children. She would gladly marry him if he ever asked, but she'd been honest when she said marriage was only a ring. After twelve years, they'd already proven their love to one another in various ways, and they had never needed a ring before.

In fact, she was almost afraid of marriage. It was easier to live the dream. It was easier to have the cake, to be able to look at it, admire it, but never indulge in actually eating it.

From how his behavior had been in the past, she was scared of what might happen if they were married. If she ever caught him cheating again, like she had in the past, no matter how short it had been, she wasn't entirely sure what that would mean in terms of marriage.

All of that was still too fresh to expose. Even though it had been a few years ago, the scar was still there. It hadn't lasted long. Only a one night thing. One very drunken, very endless, very rage-filled night. He'd never made the attempt again after that, and stayed truthful with her ever since. But things like that weren't forgotten.

Babies. Babies were a different story. This notion was untainted, still pure in her mind. Seeing Lizzie going through the process made her want children like she never had before. But what would children mean to Tony? Babies would mean rules, safety, and schedules. Everything Pepper was about. She'd always wanted to be a mother. She was nurturer. But once Tony crossed her path, the notion had been all but abandoned. He couldn't possibly want children. For all she knew, he hated children. They were needier than him, and the thought of Tony Stark being pushed aside by a toddler was almost comical.

She could live with never being married, never enjoying children. So long as she had Tony. She was not oblivious to how lucky she was to have him. He could have his pick at the snap of his fingers. He could break her heart and leave her in the dust. But he didn't. For some unearthly reason, he'd chosen her. That was all she needed to know.

"_Love you, too,"_ she answered.

-O-O-O-

Just as she'd suspected, there was a bouquet of wildflowers and Queen Anne's lace on her desk when she arrived on the lot the next morning. Impressive. It was only 8:30, and he had already called the florist, which meant he'd actually risen before noon for once.

But this wasn't the usual peace offering. There was a card attached to a tiny plastic fork at the center of the bouquet. He never left notes. She plucked the card from the prongs and read:

"_Sorry I was a jerk. You work very hard, and I appreciate it. Love you."_

For anyone else, it was generic and cliché. But Tony had no doubt worked long and hard to formulate those simple words. It was something to hold onto. She tucked the note in the corner of their framed picture on her desk.

She didn't have a free moment all day. She'd been on her feet since nine, rushing around headquarters to various meetings. Finally, at noon, she'd gotten a chance to sit, but then had to answer an endless list of emails.

After her meeting with legal at noon, she'd received a whopping seven messages from him, all within one half hour.

First: _"Hope you liked the flowers."_

Five of them were single words. _"Want. To. See. You. Tonight."_

The last was an invitation. _"Lunch?"_

She checked her watch. 1:30. She could spare an hour. _"Where do I meet you?" _she asked.

"_Ben's Chili Bowl. ETA?"_

"_Fifteen minutes. Order for me. I have paperwork for you to sign off on,"_ she typed back quickly.

Her BMW pulled up to the hot dog joint in precisely fourteen minutes. She had never been able to convince Tony that he needed a dietary change. He still ate like a child. When she entered the restaurant, he was waiting in a booth with a full table of food, sunglasses over his eyes.

She could barely fit her file folder on the table around the trays of hot dogs and chili.

"You're a bit overdressed, don't you think?" He nodded towards her designer business suit and heels.

"Mmm…indeed." She eyed his ripped jeans and Black Sabbath t-shirt.

He shoved a hot dog toward her, and she did likewise with her folder of paperwork. "Here. Let's do a trade," she said with a smile.

"I knew you were going to trap me into doing something." He flipped open the folder, and she pressed a pen into his hand. "This is the last time I take you anywhere."

She rolled her eyes and unwrapped her hot dog.

"I was thinking we could go to Venice for New Year's," he said while he wrote.

"That could be fun," she said passively, only half listening, focused on her phone.

"We haven't had a vacation in a long time. It could be…good for us." If she had been paying attention, she would've picked up the fact that he was drumming a nervous hand against the table. His habit when he could quite express what he wanted to say.

Her phone rang and she answered immediately. "Hello, this is Pepper Potts…yes…Oh you've got to be kidding me. Ok. I'll be right there."

Quickly, she was gathered her things and stood from the table. When she hung up, she bent to give him a kiss.

"Those two idiots in accounting have gotten us into a lawsuit. Looks like I've got some damage control to do. I gotta run. Sorry."

He gave her a kiss but tried to stall her. "Hold on. Wait. I was gonna ask…"

"Tell me later," she said, hurrying out the door.

He sighed. He'd invited her for a very specific reason. It wasn't often they got to have lunch together. He needed to talk to her, and not about business. Whatever. There was always later. He wadded up his trash and made a free throw for the trash can, just narrowly bouncing the tissue paper ball off the rim. It just wasn't his day.

-O-O-O-

Her BMW slid to a stop on his driveway at 8:23. Even outside, she could hear the thud of bass from his workshop.

She let herself in, and deposited her purse on the couch before descending the stairs to the workshop. Expertly, she dialed the code without looking, focused the stack of paperwork in hand. The music muted immediately.

"Surprise, surprise," she greeted him, tucking her pen behind her ear and boosting herself up to sit on his desk.

"Finally," he grunted from somewhere, and she looked up to see him under the hood of his Aston Martin.

"Mind coming out from under there so we can have a conversation?"

"Exactly what I was thinking. We need to talk."

"Yeah, about this lawsuit hysteria. It's a zoo. Cedric made a huge miscalculation, and it nearly cost us that last big shipment we made."

He grunted and tugged at something under the hood. "That's fine. Hey listen…"

"Hopefully we've got everything settled, but this isn't the first time this has happened."

"Hey…I'm trying to…"

But she rambled on, undaunted.

"What do you think about reproduction?" he blurted, trying to get her attention and finally succeeding.

She went silent and he heard her pen tap a few times against the folder in her hands. "No, Tony. You can't build a cloning machine."

"No." He pushed himself out from under the car, planting his feet to stop the wheels. His face was smudged with oil. "I mean you-and-me reproduction."

She stared at him a moment, obviously shocked. "What?" Her cheeks reddened, making her freckles appear darker. "You mean…?"

He gave a nod, and his smile reached his eyes.

She looked back down at her folder and gave a tiny smile, considering. "Um…"

There was a long pause, and he was scared for a moment that she would say no.

She glanced back toward him. Her blue eyes glittered under the fluorescent light. "I mean if you want to…" she started, suddenly serious.

"No, this isn't about me. I'm asking _you._"

"Of course I do…want to," she said, her voice thin. He thought he might need to kiss her quick before she cried. "Where is this coming from?"

He stood from the creeper and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. "Well we can't let Rhodey and Liz have all the fun, now can we?"

She laughed breathlessly.

"Can we start the procreation process now?" He grinned devilishly.

"How romantic," she chided, tilting her head. She shoved the folder towards him. "Work first."

No sooner had he taken the folder was it abandoned on his desk. His lips found hers while his hands worked behind her to clear the area of various gears and greasy car parts.

"But the forms," she breathed against his throat.

"Don't care," he said, easing her back.

"Me either," she resolved, flinging his soiled t-shirt somewhere into the abyss of the workshop.

-O-O-O-

AN: This chapter was not meant to make it seem like their relationship is rocky by any means. They've got a very stable relationship right now, as stable as a relationship like theirs can be. It was just an insight into their daily struggles of having to juggle a business and their relationship at the same time.

I hope it didn't seem like Tony was merely asking her to have children just to placate her after he screwed up. By no means was that my intention. He wouldn't offer that up as a solution if she was truly angry with him.

Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are amazing.


	3. iElf Song

AN: ATTENTION! A VERY VERY IMPORTANT minor change in the last chapter. Thankfully my beta caught my mistake (I love you!). I mentioned in the last chapter that Tony's "affair" lasted one month. But Pepper and I have had some much needed character development/analysis time, and she would never put up with something that long. She would be smart enough to approach him before then. So Tony's hiccup has been merely reduced to a drunken one night stand. I will probably elaborate on it later. There is a method to my madness, people.

I can only hope that I am doing well with these characters. I thought Pepper would be an easy one to nail, but she's really been a struggle for me because she is—contrary to first impression—a very, very complicated woman. She has to have some strong motivation for staying with Tony that long, even in the actual universe of Iron Man. Tony hinted so many times at his feelings for her, and then disregarded her. A fragile person would've been hurt by that, but Pepper wasn't. That what makes her difficult to grasp, I suppose. But that's also where she's such a beautifully developed female role. Because she isn't stupid, she isn't just a secretary. And while she never does anything expressly "heroic," she is so brave and strong in and of herself that…oh gosh….too much Pepper love. Sorry guys! I'll shut up now.

-O-O-O-

_December, 2007_

_iElf Song – Priscilla Ahn_

-O-O-O-

December twentieth brought the closing of Stark Industries for the remainder of the year until January fifteenth. The Christmas party came and went with its usual monotony. He had managed to keep himself at least half sober and she hadn't needed to coral him into bed once they arrived home, as had been the ritual in the past.

He'd convinced her to fly out to the island of St. Thomas for the holidays. Since his parents' death, he had always spent the season out of the states. Sometimes she came along, sometimes she didn't. It was easier to bear if he could find an escape, especially somewhere warm where he could pretend it was no longer winter.

Now, they were both sprawled out on the bed, sheets skewed off to one corner. The noon heat was too blistering for either one of them to even suggest a venture outside. Instead, they decided to laze around their suite for a few hours until the weather cooled.

The French doors were wide open, letting in a breeze that could really be better described as a wave of warm, sticky ocean air. His head rested on her stomach, his face toward the ceiling. She had slipped into a thin sundress, and he had tugged on a pair of swim trunks before they had decided to forego their plans.

He grunted, shifting onto his side. A hand brushed against her ribs. "Awake?" he asked. She hadn't moved a muscle in nearly ten minutes.

In response, her hand came down to rest against his hair. "What are we going to do about this?" she said to the ceiling.

He rubbed an eye. "Do about what?"

"The baby."

"There isn't a baby yet." He lifted his head from her belly and shifted onto his stomach, now able to see her face. "Right?" She couldn't tell if he was excited or worried.

"It would be too soon to tell."

"I wouldn't know." He flopped back on the mattress, his head now near her knees, his feet on the pillow next to her head.

"I mean…how will we manage things once we have a kid? I just think we should discuss the prospects…"

"Right." His goatee scratched her calve and he placed a kiss there.

"A nanny would be the most obvious thing to do...Both of us will be too busy to handle them during the day."

He spent a lot of his time in the workshop, but it wasn't all wasted on perfecting his cars. He had new technologies to develop that kept his attention for hours, sometimes days at a time. And most of her time was spent in meetings or running errands for him. She couldn't tote a child around all day any more than he could keep a child occupied amongst gears and circuit boards.

He wasn't sure yet if he liked her using the term _them._ One baby was enough right now, at least for him. But he imagined she wanted a yard full.

"But she'll be off on the weekends. I won't let my kid be passed off to some strange woman to raise. That's not fair to them." She'd seen many celebrity mothers and their lack of attention for the kids. Some of them treated kids like they were publicity stunts. It made her stomach churn.

"And how is this going to change your image? I mean…you haven't exactly been portrayed as the fatherly type…" She could practically see the headlines now. Especially since they weren't yet married, the press would try and attack it as an accident.

"Pepper." He trailed a hand along her calve. "I don't really care what the press thinks about all this. It's you and me. That's all I care about. You want this. Now is as good a time as ever to do this."

He was right. Everything for the company was in the up and up. Stocks had never been higher. New designs and prototypes were rolling out steadily, and they just gotten word that the US military was considering implementing the Jericho once the final specs were approved.

"True," she said in almost a whisper.

She continued to stare at the ceiling, but his face blocked her view. His lips ghosted along her jawline and she groaned, but not out of excitement. "S'too hot…" she mumbled.

"Practice makes perfect. Well…our child will be perfect anyways, because it's me we're talking about here."

"Oh is that so? Let's not be forgetting who will be carting this thing around for nine months…"

"Oh believe me. I understand just how small my part is in all of this."

"I'm glad we agree, Mr. Stark."

His fingers reached behind her neck to tug at the strings on the bikini top beneath her dress. "Always, Miss Potts."

-O-O-O-

On Christmas Eve, he'd requested to be alone. She was used to that when they vacationed for the Christmas holidays. The reason why they were here was never far away. This was his escape from the pain of being home. What he did on his traditional day alone was unknown to her, and she had decided a long time ago that he deserved at least that little sliver of privacy. She tried not to even speculate what he did during this time, because even that seemed like an intrusion. Instead, she would find something to entertain herself for a few hours. Luckily she'd found a few places to shop and even found a few things for him.

Since her parents' death, she had had no other family to visit. Or maybe she had no other family that she genuinely wanted to visit, and take the risk of leaving Tony alone. Peter usually came home for Christmas every other year, and she would spend that time with him at home in California. But every other year had been spent wherever Tony had decided to vanish off to.

She had always been so very lenient with him on everything. She let him have his parties, his alcohol, his stupid cars. She let him step on her toes countless times without so much as a peep. People would say she was weak. She'd been cornered after many a board meeting or a court hearing and be interrogated by some pompous air-head about why she allowed such crude behavior. But it was never her job to take responsibility for his shortcomings. He was a grown man, even when he rarely behaved as such. She was never his governess. She was his girlfriend, and moreover his employee.

Most women would cut their losses and leave him flat, and she would be lying if she said she hadn't thought of doing that very same thing at least once. But it was not her duty to chide him for his wrongs, but to stick with him through them. That was what she had been _hired_ to do, if they preferred the business side of things.

Pepper knew if she held him to any standard of perfection, he would never reach it. He would always fall short. She had to be extremely—at some times unreasonably—forbearing with him. There was no other choice. Because dealing with Tony was so unbelievably hard, that there had to be an equally unbelievable standard of forgiveness.

Pepper was quick to heal. She had to be. But if she had to pick one hole still left unfilled, it would be the night she caught him with the other woman. She'd blocked out most of what happened, but she was certain that she had never raised her voice to that volume in her life, or used that many curse words at once, and never since. Somewhere in that whiskey-rattled brain of his, he'd managed to understand how close he'd come to losing her.

She was well aware that he still scoped other women out; he was a male. Looking at other women went hand in hand with having both X and Y chromosomes. She could never separate that from him, but she had managed to successfully tie his hands down.

Not that her intention had ever been to change Tony. That would be a lost battle from the very start. She had never desired to change a single thing about him. But she chose to love him for the few things he chose to do right rather than the thousand things he had done wrong. And in her mind, that was far braver than abandoning him at the first sign of a mistake.

Any woman could stand up for her rights, be headstrong and leave at the first sign of error. But few could love their men despite their faults. Few would choose, as Pepper had, to not only claim her territory but also clear the battlefield after every attack.

She knew, she had known, that she was the safety net that caught him when he fell. No matter how many times he took the jump, she'd be there. He needed that security. For all the times he'd been screwed over, she couldn't bear to leave another scar.

She returned to the suite late in the afternoon. He was propped against the headboard of the bed, remote in hand, channel surfing.

"Merry Christmas," she chirped, plopping two shopping bags on the bed.

Like a bloodhound, he became instantly alert at the sight of presents. She ducked into the bathroom to remove her sandals and brush her hair back into a ponytail. When she returned to the bedroom, he'd already opened the Jaeger wristwatch and discarded it to the side, now unboxing the bottle of coconut rum. She slid onto the mattress next to him, shoving the wrappings away to make herself room.

"Thanks," he said. "But I didn't get you anything."

"Yeah, you did." She smirked, and turned back to the shopping bag. She pulled out a long black, velvet box and removed a very simple blue sapphire pendant from the plush interior.

With gentle fingers, she held the jewel up for him to appraise. He reached out for it to get a better look.

"Ooh. That's nice. I've got good taste."

"Indeed," she said, laying the necklace back in its box.

He slid the rum bottle back into its box, and she watched him as he gently folded the tabs back in. He stared at it a long time before placing it on the bedside table. For a moment she was taken aback. She had expected him to ask if she wanted a drink and open it right away. But she said nothing.

"Wanna go swimming?" he asked instead, and she sat there inwardly dumbfounded for a moment before agreeing.

-O-O-O-

Pepper Potts did not sun. She was too fair and far too delicate for that. Without proper application of sun screen, she burnt like a lobster. No, her tan hardly lasted for a few days. But rather, she freckled. Glorious, perfect constellations of freckles on her shoulders, her forearms, her nose and her cheeks. He wanted to count every single one of them, which was quite easy to do in the full moonlight.

Nor did she wear some skimpy bikini. Yes, she had those, and his carnal-self preferred them. But she was more comfortable in her black and white, classy swimsuit which left her slightly more covered and sophisticated as always.

He followed behind her into the gentle ebb of the ocean, marveling at the glow the moonlight cast on her pale skin. She ventured out until the water reached her elbows and he stopped behind her, his hands coming to rest at her waist. Her fingers mingled with his.

The thought that there maybe, just might be a stirring of the two of them happening beneath her very skin was a thrilling—and frightening—thought. A chemical reaction. Putting it scientifically was even more exhilarating.

"I love you, Pepper," he said evenly, already to twenty on his freckle tally.

He rarely used her name, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the sound of it. She twisted around to face him, her knees hitching up to grip his hips. The water held most of her weight, but his hands ghosted gently along her back, just for the sake of needing to touch her.

"You put up with a lot," he said.

"That's my job," she said smiling, her voice light.

"And I don't ever tell you enough."

"You don't have to."

"I know but….Have you ever thought about pizza?"

Her eyebrows raised. "Pizza?"

"Yeah, like. How it's pretty basic if it's just cheese. But the more stuff you put on, the better it gets. Not that you need to put more stuff on, because quite frankly I'd like you to take stuff off…"

"Are you comparing me to a pizza?"

"No. Well sort of. I just mean…ok, maybe it wasn't the best metaphor. Maybe I was thinking about onions…" He ducked his head. This was hard, and he was no good at it. "If you haven't noticed…I'm really bad at romance."

She laughed and lifted a wet hand to push his hair back. "Believe me, I know."

He was horrible with words. At least these words. It was always a mess and never measured up to what he actually wanted to say. So instead he kissed her. Long and deep. But she pulled back before he'd expected. He could see those pearly white teeth of hers glittering through his half-closed lids.

That was his Pepper. She was always so comfortable with letting the silence suffice for things he couldn't say, and she wouldn't clutter it with her own words.

"We didn't eat dinner," she observed, and he felt the familiar grumble ignite in his stomach.

"Oh. That's probably important."

Just another reason why he would never be able to survive the world without her. If he wasn't reminded to eat, he could go days without a full meal. It was just his nature; sometimes he'd get so wrapped up in a project that he wouldn't even think about it.

"Room service?" she suggested.

"Wonderful choice," he agreed, turning to head back to shore. "And by the way…" He stopped and lifted a hand to glance at his Submariner. Perfect timing. It was exactly midnight. "Merry Christmas, Pepper."

-O-O-O-

AN: Well there's Pepper for ya. I hope she came across well, and I hope it cleared up some of the questions you guys had. I rather like writing them when they're traveling. Maybe they should sign over the company to Rhodes and become gypsies, haha.

The goods are coming, people. I promise. Possibly in the next chapter.


	4. Circle The Drain

March, 2008

If You Ask – Faith Hill

-O-O-O-

The secret had been kept under close watch, making sure nothing was leaked to the press or anyone in the company. Obadiah had been notified of the plan so that he wouldn't be completely surprised once Pepper turned up with a belly bump. But in two months, there had been no breakthroughs. Neither of them was discouraged, though. They nearly had their 'practice sessions' down to a science, able to squeeze them in between board meetings and able to take more time during nightly rendezvous. Pepper had even tried to convince him to read up on different strategies to speed the process along, but in his opinion, that took all the fun out of things. He would rather do things the old-fashioned way and leave things to chance.

This morning, she had managed to escape the office early to pick up Peter from the airport. He had called the week before to say he'd gotten seven days of leave in the states.

She already planned a week of home-cooked meals and maybe she would even introduce him to Susan in accounting if she got the chance. She was a nice girl, and Pepper had caught her eyeing Peter's picture on her desk more than a few times.

She all but jumped at him when he exited the plane, wrapping in him a tight hug. She talked his ear off the whole ride home, telling him everything that he'd missed, including the Baby Plans. He listened intently without interference, but Pepper could tell he was a bit more subdued. When he did speak, his speech was quiet, and flat. The military had changed him, and he was no longer the boy he had been when he'd signed up. Whenever he came home, she was always hoping to find that same blithe young man that she had known, always forgetting that he was older and wiser now, with experiences that Pepper herself could never truly understand.

He told her he was excited and happy for her. He told her she already had that motherly glow, and she assumed that was probably true. She had been on Cloud Nine all month. Tony had even taken her out on a nice date. A _date._ At a _restaurant_. That never happened, at least not in years.

She prepared a huge dinner of pasta and French bread, fresh green beans from the Farmer's market, and tiramisu for dessert. All homemade. But he only ate one plateful before retiring to the couch. She supposed that he wasn't used to eating such big meals, and wordlessly stored the leftovers in the fridge.

"Hey, I found this at the store the other day. I thought you'd enjoy it," she said when she wandered into the living room, breaking his attention from the news. She bent into the cabinet beneath the TV and pulled out a copy of _Fight Club _on DVD_._ For the first time that night, he smiled a completely genuine smile that reached his eyes.

She changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and joined him on the couch, tossing a blanket over her legs. They weren't even halfway through the movie when her phone rang.

"You gonna get that?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"It's a text. And it's not Tony, so we're fine." She stuffed a few more kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Ten minutes later, her phone chirped again. This time, she sat up to retrieve it from the ottoman.

"It's just Rhodey," she told him, figuring it had something to do with the baby. They'd just had a beautiful baby boy only weeks ago.

But instead, she was confused by his text that read:_ "Where are you?"_

"_Uh…my house. Peter is here. What's up?"_ she replied.

In no time, he'd answered. _"I think you need to go see what's up at the mansion. He's asking me to come over, and it sounds like the party's in full swing."_

"Party?" she said audibly, confused. There was no party planned for tonight, at least not that she'd been notified about. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What's wrong?" Peter asked.

She stood. "I have to go."

She headed for the bedroom to change. In seconds she had donned a pair of slacks and a blazer; no chance she was putting on a cocktail dress tonight. He was in huge trouble, and she wasn't about to indulge him.

She grabbed her purse from the counter and headed for the door. "I'll be back, I promise," she told Peter, accidently slamming the door in her hurry.

-O-O-O-

Running more than a few stoplights, she reached the mansion in a record nine minutes. Just as Rhodey had predicted, there was bass thumping through the open patio doors, and throngs of people crowded outside and around the large pool. Without hesitation, she parked her car in the garage. She wasn't quite sure why she'd done so, but she hadn't wanted to come through the front door. She would rather catch him by surprise.

If the house had been quiet, she would've heard her heels thudding fiercely against the marble stairs that led up to the living room, but either the music or the blood rushing in her ears drowned out the noise.

It didn't take very long to find him. Of course, entertaining several women by the Steinway. He was perched on the bench, with a woman flanking each side of him, and one balanced herself on the edge of the bell, wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini.

She heard him ask for any requests, and his fingers pressed a sour chord, making one of the girls giggle.

Pepper's vision went red.

She didn't even try to hide her rage this time. "Are you insane? Get down!" she shouted at the girl in the bikini, swatting the scantily-clad twit off the sleek black surface. The woman threw her a glare before disappearing into the crowd in the living room.

"Pepper! You're here!" he exclaimed, finally noticing her. He gestured for one of the women to stand, and swiveled around on the bench so he could stand. He held his arms out to her as he approached, but she swatted them back down. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She tried to keep her voice even.

"Having a par-tay…but I'm guessing you didn't come to join?" He tried to give her a pout, but she saw right through it.

"Tell everyone to go home," she ordered.

"But it just started," he protested. "Let me get you a drink. Vodka martini?"

She grabbed the lapel of his jacket, tugging him close. "They're going home," she said darkly, not giving him a choice.

He saw the anger flash in her eyes, and resolved to follow her orders without any more protest.

She took the drink in his hand so he could step up onto the piano bench. He waved his hands and shouted, trying to get everyone's attention. "Yo! Time to get outta here! Sorry guys, but Miss Prissy Pants here is making me send you all home."

Pepper's eyes closed in aggravation.

There was loud chorus of boos and awws from the guests.

"Yeah. She's kind of a prude, sorry about that. But hey." He swiped a finger across the side of his nose and cocked an eyebrow. "I can tell ya that's not at all the case in bed, if you get what I…"

While he gave his little speech, Pepper made for the stereo system in three long strides. She tugged the power cord, making the speakers in the ceilings pop, leaving the room in awkward silence for a moment before the guests started to murmur amongst themselves, in various states of disappointment and shock.

"Everybody out. Thanks for coming. See you all next time," she said. JARVIS took that as his cue to raise the lights and open the doors.

While the guests filed out, leaving their glasses and still-lit cigars on various pieces of furniture, Pepper wheeled around to face him, approaching him at full speed.

"I hope you're happy with yourself." She glared up at him.

"Yeah, I do have good buzz going on so…"

More than a buzz. More like completely trashed. "You're absolutely infuriating," she said, raising her hands in front of her to emphasize her point, at the same time forcing him to keep his distance. She moved to gather up the wreckage.

He followed on her heels. "Come on, let's talk about it."

She ignored him. Her hands were shaking as she gathered an armful of glasses and headed for the kitchen.

"OK, silent treatment. That's cool. Mature."

She dumped the glasses in the sink with a loud clatter, and braced her hands on either side of the metal basin. "Don't you dare talk to me about maturity right now, Tony. Do you understand how livid I am right now?"

He dug a finger in his ear, looking down at the broken African vase on its pedestal. "Umm…"

"Just go upstairs and change, please." She moved for the living room again to finish her cleanup, but he caught her waist.

"Pepper, just let me…"

She shoved him away roughly, definitely not in the mood for one of his many drunken kisses right now.

"Don't touch me," she threatened, her eyes blazing.

He stared at her with those hurt, puppy dog eyes. But she held her ground. This was it. Her hands folded in front of her chin, and her eyes closed, almost as if she were praying. Maybe she was. She calmed her breathing before speaking.

"I can't do this anymore, Tony." Her eyes snapped back open. "I'm done."

There was a beat of silence and he watched her gather up more glasses and bottles of Grey Goose before speaking.

"What exactly are you done with?" His voice was as hard as hers now.

She didn't stop her work, turned away from him as she fluttered around the glass coffee table. "Everything. I quit."

"Quit?" He stepped forward. "Your job? You can't."

"Oh, indeed I can. I quit the job, the relationship. All of it."

"You can't," he repeated, looking almost halfway sober.

She turned to face him, her jaw set. "Do you even understand that my brother is in town? And maybe, just _maybe_ I was hoping to spend a little time with him?" The familiar tightening of her throat choked her up for a moment before she continued, her voice shaking but still strong. "And I can't believe you called _Rhodey. _His wife just had a baby, and you thought he'd come to your party? If that's all the respect you have for your friend and his newborn child, what kind of respect will you have for me and our child?"

"It's different," he tried to interject.

"Oh, Tony. Stop with the excuses. This is a constant thing with you. Always talking up commitment, but when it comes right down to it, you can't. And you know that's true." She took a breath.

He wasn't able to meet her eyes, so he stared at the marble flooring instead.

"For twelve years, I've let you have your fun. I never said a word. I should've quit a long time ago, when I found you with that…woman," she finished. For some reason the word was almost hard to say. It triggered something in her mind, and images from that night came flooding back.

She realized she struck a nerve. He let out a loud sigh. "Every time I think you're close to forgetting, something brings it back up."

She took a long breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. "People don't forget things like that, Tony."

"Why have you stuck around this long then?" he asked.

"Because…All this time I thought I was doing the right thing." She willed her tears back, and tipped her chin upwards, not to look brave, but to keep her mascara from running.

"I mean…was this your plan all along?" she asked, gesturing around the mansion at nothing in particular. "You keep me around for twelve years when you feel like having a romance, and every other time you're free to do what you want? So what was the point in trying to have a kid? Is that just another bit of _fun_ for you?"

"No. that was me being serious," he replied, slowly, calmly.

"Wow." Her hand slid down her face in exasperation. "Great job at being serious."

They both stared at the marble floor between them for several minutes before she spoke again.

"I'm going home. Don't expect me here tomorrow." She brushed past him, and he didn't try to reach out for her.

-O-O-O-

When she was halfway up the Pacific Coast Highway, she realized that tears had fought their way up from her throat, and she let out a breathy sob. She was an idiot. A complete and absolute idiot. She felt…used. She had been taken advantage of for twelve years at his pleasure.

Like a matchstick, only removed from her box when she was needed. And even more disgusting was that she had actually agreed to be his employee. She should've seen that from the very start. What a sick motive that had been. He had wanted to mark in every way as his own. He'd given her the job only so he could stamp her with the Stark Industries brand name, just like every nuclear missile, bomb, or gun he'd ever sold. Then there was the pregnancy. He'd chosen to vicariously carry on the family name through her. She felt her stomach churn at the thought, and hoped she was wrong.

It was the only reasonable conclusion she could come to.

She felt sick. Physically sick. Tears blurred her vision as she drove, and she felt another sob rise in her throat, but shook her head, willing it to go away.

When she thought about everything she'd sacrificed for him, all the things she could've spent the past twelve years doing…

It was all a waste. Every single moment. And now she had nothing. He'd left her dry. She was completely and utterly devoted to him, and now nowhere. No job, no love life, no kid.

She sucked in a raw breath as she pulled into her drive, trying to compose herself. But all the lights were off inside, and she knew Peter had already gone to bed.

She slid inside, feeling every bit like the victim she was. She needed to clean the kitchen, but it probably wasn't going to happen. Instead, she silently climbed the stairs and fell into bed, blazer and all.

-O-O-O-

Her nails had been gnawed to the quick, ruining her perfect French manicure. Her bare feet paced nervously over the pristine tile of her bathroom while she waited.

She hadn't seen Tony in a little over a week, but had not been completely out of contact with SI. She'd met with Obie to relay the situation, but told him she had no intentions of quitting. He suggested that things needed to simmer down for a few days, and maybe when Tony returned from Afghanistan, things would return to normal. She agreed.

She did her usual duties around the office, but had left Tony to fend for himself. She had sent Obie a text this morning to remind him about the flight to Afghanistan.

"_You know he usually needs some prodding before he's ready to leave. Good luck with that," _she'd typed in an attempt to be droll, but it probably just came across as rude.

Now, on her first Saturday off in ten years, she was waiting, completely on edge, for the little white stick before her to determine her fate.

She'd felt a little more than dejected when she bought the thing, and the adolescent boy that rang her up had stared her down with wide eyes once he realized who she was. That had not helped. Not at all. She had been feeling a little off for the past few days, but hadn't wanted to admit to herself that maybe _this _was the cause.

Two more minutes. Her heart was beating madly, and she finally took a seat at the edge of the tub. Unable to keep still, she tapped her bare feet against the plush ivory rug.

She counted down from one hundred and twenty, and wasted no time in grabbing the little stick once she reached zero.

A pink little plus sign confirmed her suspicion, and her head fell to her hand. Pink. What an ironic color. She was supposed to happy, but instead she just felt like a sixteen-year-old girl who'd lost composure during a backseat make-out session. Stupid, used, swallowed and regurgitated. This was all wrong. Everything about it. She was carrying the child of one of the most powerful men in the world, and all she wanted to do was cry.

Her phone chirped form the counter. Obie had texted back. "_Got him out of the workshop finally. He's on his way now."_

"_Great. Thanks,"_ she typed back with one hand, and tossed the test in the trash with the other.

She entered her bedroom and changed from her sweats into a blouse and skirt. She had errands to run. There was no sense in moping around the house, even though things probably couldn't get much worse.


	5. The Violet Hour

_Late March, 2008_

_The Violet Hour – The Civil Wars_

-O-O-O-

She was extremely used to early morning phone calls, but Tony wasn't even in the country. Who the hell was calling at such an hour?

She floundered in the sheets a moment before she gained some sense of consciousness and reached for her cell phone on the nightstand. Through bleary eyes, she read the time as 2:14am and Rhodey's name on the screen.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice raw and confused.

"Pepper? I'm sorry to call so late…or early. But…" There was urgency in his voice that made Pepper sit upright. "You're the only person I thought..."

"What's wrong?" she insisted, cutting him off.

"I don't really know how to tell you this, Pepper." There were other voices in the background, but she didn't catch anything they said. "Tony's…gone, Pepper."

"What are you talking about?" she said, completely alert, now standing and searching the floor for a pair of shoes.

"We were headed back to the base after the demo…and we got ambushed. Tony was in the Humvee in front of me. I saw him get out, but then he was gone. We don't know what happened to him. We've searched the area, but there's no sign."

If the past days hadn't left her feeling ill enough, now she certainly did.

She swept up a pair of slacks and a blouse, headed for the bathroom. "Get a search party together. I'll catch a flight…just…"

"Pepper, calm down. Don't come out here. I've got guys searching already, and we're going to find him."

Her body sagged against the door jamb. "Oh God, Jim…"

"I know, Pepper." There was a rustling, and she could hear him talking to someone else in the background. "I'll call you if we find out more," he said to her. "I gotta go."

Before she could respond, the other line clicked.

She couldn't control the sob that exploded from her throat, echoing against the walls, leaving behind an eerie aftershock.

-O-O-O-

There was no chance of going back to sleep. At six, she figured Obie was awake by now and called him up. He had already been told the news, and insisted she stay home for the day, against all her protests. He told her there was nothing either of them could do at the moment, and had placated her enough to convince her not to try and a find a way out there.

But she didn't stay home. At nine, she went to HQ and did absolutely nothing but sit in her office and watch the news from the flat screen on the wall. The press was on red alert, clamoring for any update they could get. CNN and every single local news channel had gotten ahold of the story already. There were not yet rumors, but only the bare facts that Tony had disappeared after an ambush and was nowhere to be found. Various generals and reporters were patched in by video to give their insight on the situation, but Pepper doubted severely that they knew anything more than she did. If there were any breakthroughs, Pepper would be one of the first to be notified. The real question was why these people were making such a field day out of this and not doing anything to find him. Eventually, after watching for ten minutes, she muted the television. She was tired of hearing it.

Her fingers ran over the material of her blouse, just over her stomach.

Silently, she willed the being inside her to understand just how sorry she was. How completely sorry she was that this little life would have to start in the midst of all this. This was not at all how she had intended things.

But they were going to be ok. She hoped. They would find him, and he'd be on the flight back within the week.

"It's going to be ok, little peanut," she told her tummy, letting a thumb run over her belly button.

But she couldn't stop the tears that dripped onto the back of her hand, cold as ice.

-O-O-O-

It felt like she was the only one who even cared. Obadiah was calm, cool, and collected. All the other employees were enjoying their few days off that he had given, but Pepper had been in constant contact with Rhodey, through phone calls or email, getting every shred of information about the search party and their progress—or lack thereof.

There had been no sign of him in five days.

She had spent every waking second at the office, doing menial tasks. There was no point in being here since most everyone had been given leave, but she had to keep herself busy.

Now was she was sitting, with nothing to keep her occupied. Just sitting at her desk, staring at the picture that she kept there next to Peter's. It was from the first gala they'd ever attended together, way back in 1999. His hair had been a bit longer then, still perfectly kept, and hers had been shorter, falling just beneath her shoulders. She wore a gorgeous red dress, modest, since it had been her first public appearance alongside him. He wore a pinstriped suit with the usual wackily-patterned tie, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She had her hands on his chest in an attempt to keep him away, her lips parted in laughter and shock.

The little note from his flower delivery a few weeks ago was still stuck there in the corner, though the flowers had been disposed of already.

She felt another tear on her cheek and wiped at it instantly. All this crying was getting out of hand. It snuck up on her at the most inopportune times.

She just wanted him back. She wanted to fall into his arms and tell him how much she loved him, tell him that all those stupid mistakes didn't matter anymore, and demand that he never ever leave again.

Her door sprang open, and she jumped. Obie leaned, nonchalant, against the handle. "Could you help me with something?" he asked. He looked tired, but not as tired as Pepper felt. And not as out-of-sorts as she had expected him to be.

Immediately, she gathered herself and stood. "Of course, sir."

Obie sauntered into the room, hands stuffed in his pockets. "I think we need to release a statement. Will you help me draft one up?"

"Certainly," she agreed, bending to pluck a pen from the cup on her desk, and grabbing a legal pad from the drawer. When she looked back up, Obie had eased himself into the soft leather chair on the opposite side of her desk, hands folded in his lap.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

She forced a smile and gave a nod. "Just fine," she lied successfully.

"I can only hope they find him soon," he said, turning his gaze to the muted television on the wall.

"They will," she answered, surprised at the confidence in her own voice.

It took them only an hour to draft up the few paragraphs to give the press. It was all a bunch of lies as far as Pepper was concerned. There was little said about the actual incident, but rather Obie had chosen to focus on the company and its employees, going on about the therapy sessions they would be receiving to help them cope with the stress and loss. It sounded almost as if they were already presuming Tony was dead.

Obie thanked her and stood from his chair, headed for the door, but Pepper stopped him.

"Obie?"

He turned.

"Do you think…they'll find him?" she hesitated.

He gave her a smile, completely convincing. "Of course I do, Pepper. It's only a matter of time."

It took her a moment to smile back. Something behind his eyes said otherwise.

-O-O-O-

On day twelve she visited her obstetrician. The due date was stamped at October twelfth, but the doctor couldn't detect any heartbeat. At first she'd been worried, but he assured her that was normal. She was only six weeks along, and the baby was still in the first stages of development. He prescribed her some vitamins and scheduled another visit in two weeks.

She had expected her visit to be exciting, but it left her feeling exhausted and stressed. Though she had always wanted a child, and was excited to be having one, the timing couldn't be worse. She wanted Tony to be here. As much as she wanted to remain positive, she couldn't shake the sinking feeling that he wouldn't be.

-O-O-O-

The stress was getting to her.

Never before had Pepper considered herself absolutely incapable of coping in any situation, but this…this she could _not _do. The stocks were sliding slowly downhill, and Obadiah was trying everything in his power to keep them at a steady plateau. The press was constantly calling, emailing, asking for answers and they had run out of excuses to hold them off. They had dropped the idea that this was a simple matter of MIA, but now proclaimed accusations of kidnapping, and Pepper hoped with everything she had that it wasn't true.

Morning sickness was taking its toll, and not just in the mornings. She found herself running for the bathroom at any sight of food. She'd taken to saltines and trail mix as snacks, but could barely swallow anything containing meat. It was probably just a weird pregnancy side-effect, and instead she reverted back to her vegetarian days, but she knew the baby wouldn't remain healthy with a diet like that. She needed to contact her doctor, but never got the chance.

Rhodey was the only one to share her vain hope that Tony was still out there. His team searched the area daily, even as far as a hundred mile radius. But there was nothing.

Pepper found herself in his office, sitting in his chair, touching his mouse. Everything still held that 'Tony' smell. Dolce & Gabana cologne with a lingering of cigar smoke and the tang of metal.

He had a picture of her propped on his desk, but this one was more personal than Pepper dared to display. His was from their vacation to Sydney. Pepper was pictured sunning herself on Bondi Beach, wearing a bikini, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, her hair caught in a gust of wind. She had one eyebrow raised, peeking over her sunglasses, giving him a look that she often did when he was acting like a child.

She smiled at the memory, but the picture was blurred behind her own tears.

"God, Tony…" she breathed, not really knowing who she was meant to be talking to.

Her elbows hit the glass desktop and her fingers raked through her hair, ruining her meticulously pinned bun.

And finally, she let herself cry. The few tears she cried before were nothing compared to this. A sob echoed through the room, but Pepper wasn't worried about being found. It was eight at night, and whatever employees had chosen to show up for work were long gone.

Her chest tightened as she tried in vain to hold herself together, but it was no use. Tears fogged the glass beneath her, and her mascara stung her eyes, but she continued undaunted.

"Tony…" she breathed again, and one hand came to her stomach.

The tiny pea inside her was much too small to have any sort of emotional capacity yet, but somehow Pepper felt a little nudge inside of her. Whatever was in there was crying with her.

-O-O-O-

Day twenty was probably the most embarrassing day of her life.

The board members had all gathered at headquarters for a meeting to discuss the situation and where they would turn from here on out.

Pepper had felt ill all morning; this was the worst day yet. She had downed an entire bottle of water and half a sleeve of saltines with her vitamins this morning, but that had not settled her stomach. She had discovered that the skin at her abdomen was a bit harder, and if she didn't have so many other things to worry about, she would've been upset about gaining a few pounds. But there was no time for vanity right now.

She had seated herself next to Obadiah at the head of the table, a pen and pad in hand as always. The long mahogany table was flanked with business men, the aura of haughty testosterone thick in the air.

"Colonel Rhodes is still carrying on the search, though there have been no breakthroughs," Obadiah informed them at the start of the meeting.

"Cut the bull, Obie. It's been twenty days and there's no sign," one board member interjected. "I think it's safe to say there's no chance in finding him."

Pepper felt her gut twitch.

Before she could control herself, she was on her feet, staring the man down. "You're wrong," she blurted.

Every eye landed on her. Suddenly the room felt as if it were shrinking.

Pepper felt nausea kick back in. She glanced around at the various men, and back to Obadiah who was staring with raised eyebrows.

She knew she had no jurisdiction here. She was a PA, and nothing more. She'd only been allowed at the meeting to lend a hand to Obadiah. Never before had she lost her composure like this. She'd always remained silent and professional through such meetings, never overstepping her boundaries and only giving her opinion when prompted. This was not Pepper Potts.

She'd just embarrassed the hell out of herself. Now the all-too-familiar feeling was creeping back into her stomach.

Her throat constricted, and her mouth dried. Her eyes fell closed, willing the queasiness in her stomach to stop.

"Please excuse me," she said timidly, backing away from the table and out of the room.

For a moment, she stood frozen in the hallway, suddenly forgetting which direction the bathroom was. Finally, her brain cleared long enough of embarrassment and revulsion for her to gain her bearings.

She made a run for it, slamming her palms against the weighted door just at the end of the hall.

Her knees sank to the tiled floor in the stall and she vomited up whatever lunch she had managed to swallow. She really just felt like sitting there and crying, and she couldn't stop the few tears that fell. Exhaustion and anxiety were taking over. She was having a hard time holding herself together, especially in her delicate state.

But above all, her mind was focused and professional as always. She needed to get back to the meeting, and this time she would keep her mouth shut. She dabbed at her face and washed her hands before deeming herself presentable.

When she exited the bathroom, Obadiah was leaning on the adjacent wall. She jumped at the sight of him, and a hand flew to her stomach before she could think.

He did not look happy, and she immediately began to spew apologies.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened to me. I just…"

"You're pregnant," he observed correctly.

She didn't have to answer.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"I just…didn't want to complicate things further. There wasn't any need to tell you. Besides, I'm handling everything fine, I just need to…"

His strong hands came to her shoulders, stopping her babble.

"You _need _to go home. Get some rest. This is a lot of stress for you. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen, Pepper. Nothing…worse, that is."

There was something beneath his words that she didn't like, but she couldn't pinpoint it, so she let it slide.

Instead, she nodded. Shamefully, she returned back to the conference room to collect her purse.

Obadiah's suggestion that she get some rest was not unwelcome. She'd been getting very little sleep for the past few days, and though she doubted she would get any now, she really just needed to lie down for the sake of her stomach.

She went straight home and managed to ingest some vegetable soup before changing into her pajamas. It was only four in the afternoon, but she had nothing better to do.

As she lay on the couch, her fingers instinctively went to her tummy again.

"Hello in there, little peanut. You're causing quite a lot of trouble for Mommy," she spoke to it. "That's ok, though. I still love you…"

This new thing of talking to herself would've weirded her out in any other situation, but this was different.

"I'm glad that you're here, peanut, especially when Daddy isn't." She felt the familiar prick in the corners of her eyes. "But he's coming back. He'd be so happy if he knew you were here."

But she couldn't say anymore. Her throat had tightened too much to allow speech, and all she could do was let out a loud sob, and brought a hand up to her mouth in an attempt to silence it. She sucked in several short breaths, trying to control herself. Finally, she murmured the only words she could muster.

"I'm so sorry, peanut."


	6. Rolling In On A Burning Tire

AN: After some of you have asked to see Tony in captivity, I've added this in. I think it brings a new dimension to the story, and I really enjoyed writing it. I've tweaked the script a bit, and the events are a bit out of order, and I don't precisely follow the dialogue. Hope you don't mind. Enjoy.

-O-O-O-

_Rolling in on a Burning Tire – The Dead Weather_

-O-O-O-

He jolted awake, letting out a cough followed by a puff of dust. This definitely wasn't home, and this mattress was much too thin to be his California King. Where the hell was he? He stared up at the dark ceiling, and instantly remembered. He remembered the light in his eyes and the man with a video camera, his own guns pointed in his direction.

He remembered struggling against the cloth pressed to his nose and mouth, and then getting sleepy.

But the sleepiness hadn't been enough. He remembered the slicing, and tugging in his chest. He could gain no other sense of consciousness, other than to feel the ripping, clawing pain, like Alfred Hitchcock's birds pecking their way to his heart.

Vaguely, he remembered seeing people. A man leaned over him, and the flash of a scalpel. This was his torturer. Several other men stood behind him, watching, enjoying.

He remembered hearing a rippling scream form his own mouth, before the scalpel dove back in unexpectedly.

Now they'd left him here on this dirty mattress. Was he here to die, or would they come back and continue their torture?

He found himself unable to breathe, and made a move to grab his nose. Something was stuck there, deep and tickling the back of his throat. He tugged the tape away from the plastic tubing, and drew it from his nose. He choked on the thick dust in the air when he was finally able to breathe. With one final tug, he discarded the tubing. His normal breathing was restored but still heavy.

He choked again on the contaminated air and turned his head, reaching for the cup on the chair beside him.

But as he rolled, something pulled taut in his chest, holding him back. A jolt of pain warned him not to move another inch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice cautioned, and Tony glanced up at a man he hadn't yet noticed in the room. The man with the scalpel. He was staring back at Tony through a grimy mirror, razor in hand.

Tony rolled back against the rough mattress, springs jabbing into his back and shoulders, as if the pain in his chest weren't enough.

He found the source of the tugging, and followed the wires up to a heavy, square object. A car battery, battered and faded like everything else in this forsaken place.

What the hell had they done to him?

He followed the leads back to his chest. Whatever the battery was powering was hidden beneath layers of dirtied gauze. So much for a sterile operating room.

He pulled at the bandages and managed to tug a few layers away before getting fed up. Instead, he pulled the white fabric apart against the grain. The fibers spider-webbed over whatever device they were hiding. Some sort of…magnet. A circular disk with wires protruding from its center. Whatever it was, it was attached to his chest, recessed into his skin once and for all.

He leaned back on the mattress, shaken.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he asked, turning back towards the man in the mirror.

-O-O-O-

"We met once before, you know? At a technical conference in Bern."

Tony glanced up from the plate of sludge in hands towards the man whose name he had yet to ask about. In everyday life, Pepper was the one taking names. He always forgot to ask names in casual conversation, because he could care less.

"I don't remember," Tony said passively.

The man laughed. "You wouldn't. If I had been that drunk, I wouldn't have been able to stand much less give a lecture on integrated circuits," the man teased, but Tony wasn't laughing.

They sat in silence for several moments until the man spoke again.

"Do you have any family?"

Tony looked up at the man, looking him in the eye for once. He shook his head and looked away again.

"No."

"Nothing?" he asked.

Tony shook his head again, and stared into the tiny fire they'd managed.

"So you're a man who has everything…and nothing?" the man questioned.

After a beat, he spoke. "Pepper."

"Pardon?" the man asked, halfway through a mouthful of whatever-the-stuff-was.

"Pepper. My assistant…" He didn't like calling her that. "My girlfriend. But we were…kind of on the outs. So, nothing," he affirmed.

"Ah. That must be the young redheaded woman who helped you stumble to the car after your lecture. Yes." He paused, and took another bite. "She's very beautiful, Stark. Very kind. You should feel lucky."

Tony didn't feel like hearing anything else. He shoved the plate onto the rock near the fire and stood. He shrugged his blanket tighter around his shoulders, picked up his battery, and flopped onto the mattress where he'd been previously.

-O-O-O-

Yelling. What a wonderful way to wake up. Even better in a language he couldn't understand.

Then he was being yanked out of bed. "Get up. Come on, get up!"

He sat upright, glancing first at the ever-present car battery, and then the man in front of him.

"Do as I do," the man insisted, yanking Tony up from the bed.

He released Tony's arm and placed his own above his head. "Go on, put your hands up."

Tony copied the man's stance just in time. Several men came bursting through the door, guns in hand.

"Those are my guns. Where did they get my guns?"

"Do you understand me? Do as I do!" the man shut him up.

One man, larger and more menacing than the others stepped forward. He began to speak, and Tony was lost. He knew French, Italian, Spanish, Japanese. He even knew a bit of Russian. But this language—Urdu, maybe—Tony had no idea what was being said. He was hoping this guy knew the language, otherwise they were both screwed.

Dissolving his fears, the man leaned over and translated. "He says 'Welcome Tony Stark, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America.'"

Tony flinched.

The man continued to speak, and again the man next to him translated. "He wants you to build a missile. The Jericho Missile that you demonstrated."

A picture was passed to him, and he held it out for Tony. "This one."

Tony didn't need graphical clarification. He understood exactly what these men wanted.

"I refuse."

Apparently that was well understood without translation. Tony was jerked forward. The wires in his chest tugged painfully for a moment. Several pairs of hands tried to get ahold on him before a pair clenched around his arms, another forcing his head downward, and Tony felt the cool lips of a riffle against the back of his neck.

The man didn't bother to stop them, but held out the battery for one of the men to take. Offering him up on a silver platter, Tony thought. What was the point in saving his life if they were going to kill him now?

Tony's companion was left behind, and he was forced out of the cavern. Rough burlap was shoved over his face. In shock he took in a breath, getting nothing but a mouthful of the material and dust.

More shouting, and Tony was shoved to his knees.

The bag was lifted, but air was forced from his lungs when his head was plunged beneath water. Out of surprise, he took a large gulp, coughing and sputtering when he came back up. The Thing in his chest vibrated dully, but before Tony could protest he was shoved under again, and this time The Thing glitched and arced painfully against his chest.

In that little spark, he could've sworn he heard her voice, but he didn't have enough time to register, or know for sure.

Fingers yanked at his hair, pulling him up and shoving him under. Up for air and down again.

That was enough. Tony pulled out of the vice grip on his arms, thrashing onto his back, spluttering and choking, gasping for air. His palms pressed into the cold rocky floor. Water dripped from his hair and his chin.

He gave a loud groan, trying to clear his lungs of water. "Ok. Ok…" he breathed, his chest on fire.

He couldn't take anymore. He would give in, do what they asked, as long as he didn't have to hear her voice again. That was more painful than the scalpel plunging into his chest.

When he caught his breath, their leader spoke, and Tony was jerked up again. The sack was tossed over his head and he was shoved forward once more.

-O-O-O-

But of course he wasn't about to build their missile. He'd never had any intention of doing so. He had something completely different in mind.

Plans were laid out, maybe not on paper, and not relayed to his companion, but meticulously and thoroughly thought through. Yes, first came his heart. It would be the power source. He couldn't help but smile at the irony. The palladium from the missiles would work. It would just have to be melted down and molded. This was a giant leap of faith, he knew. But it was all he had.

"You know, we would be more productive if you included me in the planning process," the man informed him, peering over his shoulder as he disassembled one missile.

"Yeah," Tony grunted flaccidly, slamming his fist against the head of the missile, successfully jamming it out of position. His hand dove in for the skeleton, drawing it out. A beautiful piece of technology, he thought briefly. A shame these things had to be put to waste.

"What do I call you?" Tony asked, setting to work on retrieving the palladium.

"Yinsen," the man prompted.

"Nice to meet you," Tony answered, not bothering to stop his work.

Yinsen gave a dry chuckle. "Nice to meet you too."

-O-O-O-

The blue glow was beautiful, bright and cool against the dull colors of the cave. Even in modest terms, this was his best creation yet. Perfect. For now at least.

"That doesn't look like a Jericho Missile," Yinsen observed, approaching from behind.

"That's because it's a miniaturized arc reactor. I've got a big one powering my factory back home. It'll keep the shrapnel out of my heart."

"But what could it generate?" Yinsen asked.

"If my math is right—and it always is—three gigajoules per second."

"That could run your heart for fifty lifetimes." Yinsen was obviously impressed. It was nice being around another man who held the same reverence for science.

"Yeah. Or something big for fifteen minutes."

Yinsen looked confused for a minute, then asked, "What are you planning, Stark?"

He just smiled. "Something big. Something really big."

-O-O-O-

"Careful, careful." Tony winced as reactor was set against his chest.

"Oh, please. I've already been through this once, Einstein," Yinsen bantered, locking the wires into the baseplate. Tony couldn't help but chuckle at the accent he placed on the genius scientist's name.

The wires buzzed, sending a jolt through Tony's breastbone. "Ooh. Well that was a shocking experience," Tony mused.

Yinsen clicked the reactor into place, and Tony sighed in relief. "Thanks. Now I don't have to haul around an extra fifteen pounds."

"Very ingenious," Yinsen agreed.

Tony hopped up from the makeshift operating table. "Good as new. Good work, my man." He held his hand out to Yinsen for a shake, which he accepted.

Odd. Tony never initiated handshakes, and if he did it was with Rhodey in jest. But he couldn't take it back now. Yinsen was all he had, and neither of them could afford to be enemies. He was trustworthy, Tony knew. He hadn't yet snitched on their plan, and that was good enough. Two weeks in together in such close quarters was bringing them close, and Tony didn't bother resisting the last friendship he might ever have.

-O-O-O-

Somewhere in the recesses of their cavern, they'd found a game of checkers. They took a break from their work, and sat back under the fluorescent glow of the temporary workshop, spreading the game board onto the workbench.

"Tell me more about Pepper." Yinsen asked, making his move.

"Hmmm? Oh…" Tony answered. She'd been on his mind constantly. Yinsen had just interrupted a mental replay of some memory he'd managed to pluck out his cerebrum. He wasn't even sure if it was real. But he'd imagined her standing at the balcony of the mansion, and turning when she sensed him near. Her naturally shy smile made her lips turn up before it blossomed into a full on grin, pearly whites and all.

"She's…amazing." He finally answered. "I…uh…we were trying to have a baby."

Yinsen smiled fondly. "Yes. Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven."

Tony glanced up at him. He assumed Yinsen had a wife, and children of his own. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about family, Tony felt the strange stir of envy in his chest.

"Why is she called Pepper? Surely that's not her given name."

Tony smiled, for the first time in days. "No," he gave a tiny chuckle. "Her name's Virginia. I gave her the nickname because of her freckles."

Yinsen laughed. "Charming. But you mentioned things were over? What is it that you were fighting about?"

Tony leaned forward to take his turn before answering. "Stupid mistakes."

"Well, it seems to me that any chance at love we have in this world is to be taken as a precious gift. Not to be wasted."

The mood was lost, and Tony became defensive again. "I do love her."

"I never said you didn't." Yinsen moved one of his pieces on the board. "No doubt that you would give your life for her. But how many times over the years do we humans face death?" He nodded towards Tony's chest.

"Love is not only about sacrificing your life, but giving all you have again and again, for the small things."

Tony sniffed incredulously, and moved one of his pieces again. He was trying to pretend Yinsen wasn't right, but of course, he was. She was his world. All that mattered. And if he didn't have her, he had nothing. That much was certain. Now all he had to do was find a way out of this place. No big. One thing he knew, with shrapnel working every second to slice into his heart, was that he wouldn't be alive if there wasn't a reason for it. And that reason, first and foremost, was her.

-O-O-O-

AN: I am aware that in the movie they don't play checkers, but I don't know what that particular game is called and I couldn't describe it enough for Google to give me any answers ("the game with dice and colored zig-zags on the board"). Whatever. Anyways, I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. I know I don't reply to a lot of you, but I really appreciate you.


	7. Empty House

AN: Backgammon, backgammon, backgammon. I particularly like the review that simply read: 'backgammon.' Thanks for that, haha.

Seriously? 87 followers and over 6,000 views? You guys are giving me heart palpitations. I love you!

A little disclaimer here: I'm pushing a lot of envelopes here, and I don't mean any disrespect to anyone should you be offended by this chapter. *sighs, hands shaking*. Here goes nothing.

-O-O-O-

_Empty House – Priscilla Ahn_

-O-O-O-

It took thirty days for her hope to give out. Being the logical person she was, she had expected it to give out much sooner. But there was still something in her that said otherwise. He was still out there somewhere, she knew it. But the flame was dimming.

Obie had tried to convince her to attend the therapy sessions he'd arranged for the other employees, but she refused.

She woke up on day thirty-one feeling completely dumb. Dead. She didn't hurt, she didn't feel sad. She just felt nothing. It was oddly soothing.

And what made things worse was the fact that he was absolutely _everywhere._ The side of her bed where he sometimes slept _smelled _like him, and she'd woken up halfway through the night thinking he might actually be there when she caught the scent of his cologne.

She made an attempt to catch up on laundry, just to keep her hands busy. But she found one of his t-shirts, and abandoned the pile of clothes at the center of her bedroom floor, unable to continue the job.

His sunglasses were in a drawer in her bathroom, and for a moment she wondered how they'd even gotten there.

Around noon, Obadiah called her asking about some files he needed but couldn't locate. Pepper remembered that she'd never transferred them to the SI server, and it was still on her computer at the mansion. She promised to get it to him before the afternoon, but was absolutely dreading what she would have to do to get ahold of it.

She'd been avoiding the mansion at all costs.

Her heels made an eerie echo against the marble flooring and glass walls. It felt completely empty. Lifeless. Haunted.

"JARVIS?" she tried, with a slight wince. Surely he would still be online.

"Miss Potts, I'm delighted that you're here."

She gave a relieved sigh. "I'm just here to get some files."

"Of course, Miss Potts."

The AI went silent and she went to her work. After sending off the attachments, she sat back in her office chair in the eerie emptiness.

She'd never really noticed how quiet this place got. How much _he _filled this place up, and without him it was just a cold, empty structure. Not even JARVIS's warm yet simulated presence could fill the gap.

She had to leave. She couldn't stand another minute here without completely crumbling. Quickly, she snatched up her purse and keys.

The empty bar caught her eye as she passed the kitchen. Every single bottle was gone.

He'd had that stash for ages, building it from just a few bottles until it was close to being a full-on pub. But every shelf was empty, each and every bottle gone. Even the discontinued wine they'd searched all over Italy for had been disposed of.

"JARVIS?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, Miss Potts?"

"What happened here?"

"Mr. Stark has disposed of every bottle containing alcohol in the house, except for the few he keeps in the workshop, and the bar by the swimming pool."

She backed up, turning to face the wide lounge room, listening at the muffled drip of the water feature.

She knew she would be unable to leave when she walked in the door, but she'd told herself that she wouldn't let herself. But now it seemed inevitable. Without further hesitation, she pushed forward and her heels clicked regularly against the marble flooring.

For a moment she thought of staying in a guest room, but right now she needed to be close to him. She knew it would be painful later, but that had never stopped her before.

She found a set of her own pajamas in his closet and curled onto her side of his mattress. But it was all wrong.

Not even five minutes passed, and she rose again. She shed her pajamas and replaced them neatly in the closet. She found one of his t-shirts and slipped into it instead.

She nuzzled her nose into his pillow, taking in the scent, instantly soothed. Her thumb ran against the smooth Egyptian cotton, remembering every Saturday morning they spent with breakfast in bed, or just tangled in these sheets, having a simple conversation.

Emotion overtook again and she shook with silent tears.

Another sleepless night.

-O-O-O-

Pepper had schedule which she kept to like clockwork every morning. At 5:30, she rose and enjoyed an hour of yoga, usually on the deck by the pool when at the mansion. At 6:30, she took a shower and got ready for the day. From 7:30 to 7:45, she drank her coffee and watched the news. At 7:45 sharp, she left for work, arriving on the Stark Industries lot by 7:59. This had been the timetable for the last ten years. Monotony had never been an issue. She enjoyed it. It was the only part of her day which was predictable and timed. Everything else with Tony was left to chance.

But this morning, at 5:30, yoga was the farthest thing from her mind. She hadn't slept at all, or at least it felt that way. She was sure there were a few restless moments, but nothing more.

Now she sat, propped against the headboard of the bed, her hand over her stomach.

Day thirty-one and counting.

She didn't bother calling Obie to tell him she wouldn't show up for work. She hadn't been to work in three days. There was no point anymore. The press had died down, and news of Tony was rarely discussed anymore. It was like the rest of the world had forgotten he existed.

"Good morning, Miss Potts," JARVIS spoke at seven on the dot. His voice had a disheartened tone that gave Pepper a shiver. "The time is 7:00am. There is a high chance of rain today, and expected thunderstorms by late morning…" He rattled off his usual morning protocol, but Pepper stopped listening.

When she didn't hear his voice any longer, she spoke. "JARVIS, will you start a pot of coffee please?"

"Certainly, Miss."

"I bet you're hungry, Peanut." She patted her tummy and finally rose, feeling like a zombie. She wasn't in the mood to eat anything, but she knew the baby needed sustenance. Her muscles were weak, and her mind on autopilot, and as soon as she rose she felt the usual symptoms of nausea.

The shower steam brightened her up a bit, but not in spirits. Her fingers were rinsing the soap out of her hair when an alert popped onto the glass door of the shower, indicating a news article had been posted in the LA Times about Tony. She wasn't sure she liked JARVIS being able to interrupt her shower, but tossed the irrelevant thought aside and tapped the glowing announcement to open it.

She read the headline: _'Tony Stark Assumed Dead.'_

There weren't any more tears. No more raw sobs. Just a dull twitch in her heart.

She slid to the floor of the shower and curled up there. The water eventually ran cold, as did her coffee, but she took no notice.

-O-O-O-

She was officially ten weeks pregnant on day forty-two of his disappearance. She didn't want to believe that either had been that long.

Still spending her nights at the mansion, she had barely gone to headquarters at all, but when she did she avoided all contact. People were increasingly hard to deal with, and really just exhausting. Nobody but Rhodey believed that he was still alive, and Obie had all but signed the company over to himself already.

On the days she did go to work, Happy came by in the Rolls to pick her up. She sat in the front seat with him, a rare occasion. They had a few good conversations about the Dodgers' recent winning streak, and the new restaurant being built downtown, but their conversation never went to Tony. She was thankful. Being with Happy was an escape, and she got the feeling he wasn't only avoiding the subject for her sake. He didn't want to talk about it either. He invited her over for dinner, and she agreed.

That sickly feeling had stopped looming over her a few days ago, but that morning she woke up with a twisting pain in her abdomen. Instantly, she was worried. But when she rose out of bed, the pain had stopped and she thought nothing else of it after she trotted off to the bathroom to empty her bladder for the seventh time since she laid down that night.

She parked in Happy's driveway at precisely seven that evening.

He welcomed her inside, and she suddenly realized that she'd never seen Happy wearing anything other than a suit, and she'd only been inside his house twice, both for very short periods of time. He wore a faded WBA t-shirt and well-worn jeans, but didn't look shabby at all. In fact, he looked quite comfortable and at ease. She still wore her black pencil skirt and suit jacket, but when they entered the kitchen, she let herself slide out of the thing, leaving her in a crisp white button down. He urged her to discard her shoes as well, out of hospitality. She did.

She never noticed how much they differed in height, but he was at least a head taller than her which meant he was even a few inches taller than Tony himself. He was a sturdy bulk of a man, still sporting well-toned muscles from his boxing days. Happy had always been the perfect gentleman to her. Always so polite and warm-hearted, even when he wasn't on duty. He was just a giant teddy bear in her eyes, and any woman that gave him up was silly for doing so.

She helped him to boil noodles and season the spaghetti sauce. "What ever happened to Sasha?" she asked while stirring.

"Oh. Yeah. She's been out of the picture for a while. Beer?" he said from behind the fridge door.

"Um, no…water, please," she answered without explanation. "What happened?"

Happy shrugged. "It's just hard to keep a relationship when you get calls at such odd hours. She got tired of our dates getting interrupted. She wanted a nine-to-five man and kids, but working for Tony…"

He stopped himself, figuring that was the wrong word to say. He didn't miss her change in expression, watching her turn away from him and stare down into the sink.

Pepper's lips pursed. "I'm sorry, Happy."

She wasn't apologizing about his botched relationship. She was apologizing for being fragile. If Happy could list all the adjectives that described Pepper Potts, fragile would not be one of them.

"Ah…No, don't apologize. I've got garlic bread." He ducked back into the fridge, as if the store-bought loaf would appease anything. Happy had never been good at dealing with extreme emotion, especially from women.

She went back to draining the noodles and sifting them back into the pot.

That stabbing pain in her stomach came back suddenly, harder this time. Like someone had punched her in the gut. She bent against the sink. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip.

"Pepper? You ok?" his voice asked behind her.

"Yeah." She let out a pained breath. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Yeah, it's down the hall on the right. You sure you ok?"

She nodded quickly and hurried away. The pain was growing in intensity, cutting through her abdomen in rippling waves. She leaned over the toilet seat, just in case this was another bout of morning sickness. But this felt completely different, and immediately her mind assumed the absolute worst. The pain knocked her to the floor, searching for some position she could get into that would make it stop. When she couldn't find one, she finally resolved to go get Happy. She couldn't do this alone. But she didn't have time to pick herself up from the floor when another pain hit.

She must've been in the bathroom longer than she thought, because Happy knocked quietly on the door. "Hey, Pepper. You ok in there?"

"Happy," she called back to him, not sure if he could even hear her. Another wave of pain hit her and as she curled in on herself. "I need you to take me to the hospital," she croaked.

He wasted no time in opening the door and scooping her into his arms like she weighed nothing.

"What's the matter?" he asked, weaving his way through the house to the garage.

But she didn't answer, and silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed her face into his shirt.

-O-O-O-

Pepper hated needles. She could face spiders, mice, all the other things that make women squeamish. But needles were a no-go. They'd poked and prodded at her for the last hour, and finally left her alone in a private room, an IV stuck in one wrist. She couldn't even look at it without feeling physically sick. If the blood they'd drawn for testing hadn't been enough, they insisted on hooking her up to this thing. Now she understood why Tony hated hospitals so much.

She just wanted to go home.

A knock sounded, and she turned away from the door. No more doctors, no more nurses.

Happy peeked in and slowly entered. "Hey, Pepper," he said softly.

She didn't respond, but felt a huge knot twist itself over in her chest, threatening to explode at any second if he so much as dared to comfort her right now.

But she knew he wouldn't. Happy was very good at understanding boundaries. She supposed it came with the job. After all he'd seen, he had to be very good at keeping his mouth shut. Confidentiality was key when driving one Tony Stark.

He eased himself into a chair in the corner of the room, and didn't move any closer to her. He was nervous, and he didn't know what to say, she could tell.

Thankfully, minutes later, the silence was broken by a doctor entering the room.

"Miss Potts," he addressed her, and then glanced to Happy before continuing. "Is he the father of the baby?"

Pepper turned slowly to face the man, staring him down. What an idiot. Did he read the newspapers? Of course he wasn't the father. "No," she bit out.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir. I can't…"

Pepper interrupted. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to him."

The doctor threw an uncertain look to Happy over the rim of his glasses, but went on. "I've got bad news, Miss Potts. It seems that you have suffered a spontaneous abortion due to extreme amounts of stress and a poor diet. Tell me, how many times a day were you eating? Were you getting enough sleep?"

Pepper didn't answer and turned away again. A hand came to her mouth, but she didn't cry yet. She stared at a spot on the wall, face expressionless. A spontaneous abortion. Why did he have to use those words? It just pushed the knife deeper. Her peanut was gone, and these people were acting like it was an everyday occurrence.

After a moment Happy spoke. "Sir, I think Miss Potts needs a moment alone. Uh…if there are any prescriptions or anything, I will take them and have them filled."

The rest of their conversation was blurred in her mind. She had stopped listening.

All she heard was the doctor's words replaying again and again in her mind.

A dry sob escaped her throat, and another, slicing through her chest like rock against bone.

Happy hurried the doctor out, and set the papers he'd been given on the bedside table before taking her in his arms. "Shh…You're ok, sweetheart. You're ok," he tried to soothe her, but the words didn't register in her mind.

She leaned limply against his chest, tears soaking into his t-shirt. His hand rubbed circles on her back, but she didn't reciprocate the hug.

Only one thought came to mind, simple and sincere. Only one thought that she could pick out of the rubble. Regardless of the needle in her wrist, or wishing she could just leave this place. All of that faded away in one instant. She just wanted one thing right now. The only thing she couldn't have.

She just wanted Tony.

-O-O-O-

The hospital kept her overnight, to monitor her condition and to give time for her to recover. She was written a prescription for a drug that would continue to flush out her system, and sent home with a piece of paper declaring her pregnancy as failed.

Happy brought her some clothes from the mansion, and while she waited for him to return, she prayed it wasn't any of Tony's clothes. But he returned with a pair of black yoga pants and a soft t-shirt and waited outside while she readied herself to leave.

She fell asleep in the backseat of his car, exhausted. Her mind was a blur. She couldn't pick out any thought from another, and she didn't like the feeling. It felt like she was in a whirlpool. Like all of her emotions had been thrown into a cyclone and she couldn't grasp hold of any one of them. She wasn't entirely sure what she felt. Sadness, greif, loss. Anger. Guilt. All of it at once.

She wasn't aware that the car had come to a halt, but felt a gentle hand on her arm, attempting to rouse her.

"Tony…?" she breathed, dazed.

"No, hon. It's Happy," she heard his voice say, and instantly remembered where she was. "You're home. Let me help you inside."

"Home. My house?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered.

Her entire body felt sore when she sat up, and she leaned against him while he walked her to the door. He had her keys, but she didn't remembering giving them to him. Her BMW was parked in the driveway, and she figured she must've given them to him earlier when he left to get her clothes, and somewhere along the way he retrieved her car from his house.

He helped her inside and to bed, and insisted that she call if she needed anything.

She didn't even hear the front door clicking into place before she fell asleep.

-O-O-O-

Her own house felt empty and cold now. Every bit of life had been sucked form the earth, leaving her alone and empty. It felt like every piece of her body had been flushed away except for the outer shell. Hollow and lifeless.

She wandered down to the couch and laid there awhile. She stared outside, but through the sheer curtains. Watching through a veil.

At noon, Happy came to bring her medicine and lunch. He didn't overstay his welcome, and promptly left, knowing she wanted to be alone. The Chinese food went cold on the counter.

Searching for comfort, her hand went to her belly, but she remembered there was no longer anything there. It had been ripped right out of her because of her own negligence. She blamed herself. It had been her fault, and she refused to believe otherwise.

It was her fault for not calling the doctor to help her get on the right diet when her nausea left her unable to eat. It had been her fault she hardly got four hours of sleep every night. She had known all the right things to do, but she didn't do them. She was the only one to blame.

Something in her mind told her it was her also fault that Tony was gone, but she couldn't work out a reason why that would be true. She couldn't work out a reason why it would be false either, and so she accepted it as fact.


	8. Hey Jude

AN: 101 reviews in 7 chapters….I think I just might faint. AGGGHH! And by the way, I think a lot of you forgot to sign in last time, so I got a ton of anonymous reviews. I disabled them, because I like to know where my reviews are coming from and if you have questions/comments/concerns, I want to be able to reply back to you. Thanks guys!

-O-O-O-

_Hey Jude – The Beatles_

-O-O-O-

At midnight on day sixty-two, there was a phone call.

She had just barely caught the edges of sleep when the ringing jolted her awake. Rhodey's ID lit up the screen. So many conversations had ended in discouragement, she wasn't sure if she wanted to answer. Despite the stirring in her chest, she tapped the button to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Rhodes." He laughed into the phone. "You're never going to believe this."

"Rhodey, if this isn't important…"

"We found him, Pepper."

She shot up in bed. "Oh my God. Where…where the hell is he?"

He laughed again. "Next to me, about to chew my arm off if I don't give him the phone."

"Let me talk to him," she demanded. His voice in the background asked the same thing, and she heard the shuffle of the phone exchanging hands.

"Hey, beautiful," a voice said, very unlikely Rhodey's.

She felt her heart literally stop short in her chest. She laughed breathily into the handset, and a tear dripped onto her cheek. "Hi."

"Hmm…three months and all I get is a hi." His voice lowered just so she could hear. "I missed you."

"Me too," she choked.

"Hey, cut that out. No crying on me, Potts. I'm coming home tomorrow. I'll be there at noon. Can you bring me some espresso? And not that Starbucks fluff. The Jamaican stuff."

She laughed. Yes, Tony was back. Without a doubt. "Ok. Sure thing, boss."

"Oh and…bring yourself. Of course."

She smiled. "Ok."

"I love you."

Whatever spark that had died within her fluttered to life at his words.

"I love you too."

"Hey, Pep?"

"Yes?"

"What I did…I'm sor…"

"Already done," she answered, stopping him.

He hummed fondly into the phone. "I'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

"Ok. I love you more," she challenged.

"Doubtful. Bye, Red."

The phone beeped indicating he'd hung up.

Finally, for once in more than sixty days, she slept through the night.

-O-O-O-

At noon on the dot, his plane came in for landing. She was standing alongside Happy outside the Rolls to welcome him home. Lizzie and the baby boy, Josiah, had come too but were standing near their own vehicle to greet Rhodey.

When the ramps began to lower, she was instantly nervous. She wasn't sure what condition he was in. He was obviously well enough to talk on the phone, and walk around. But it wasn't just the physical Pepper was worried about.

And then there he was, handsome and healthy as ever, in a tailored suit that she didn't remember seeing him in before. Surprisingly, he let Rhodes escort him off the plane, led by his only good arm. The other was wrapped in a sling, and his jacket sleeve hung loose against his shoulder. As he came closer, she could see other bumps and bruises. A small scratch under his eye, and another above his eyebrow. He wasn't completely whole yet, physically. Mentally was yet to be seen.

He refused the stretcher that several medics had wheeled around for him, and continued his decent without Rhodey's help. When his eyes landed on her—_finally—_she couldn't help but give a smile.

He sniffed, making his mouth quirk up in a smirk he was trying to suppress. He was looking her over, taking in every curve and feature all over again. In any other moment, she would've been embarrassed. But the various officers and pilots watching nearby faded away and all she saw was him.

He stepped forward and his hands landed on her waist. An electric current pulsed through her, drawing her arms up around his shoulders and her fingers in his hair.

He pulled her in close and his nose immediately went behind her ear.

All the knots and caverns in her soul dissolved, and she just held him there, fitting her body against his. Finally, after so many months alone. The man that she hadn't spent more than a week away from in twelve years. Finally here again, flesh and bone.

He hummed against her ear and pulled her even closer, nuzzling his nose against her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder. She felt his breath in time with hers, but something hard and strange at the center of his chest. She didn't ask yet. Instead, she just let him hold her.

They stayed like that a few moments, his hand wandering her back. She gave him a squeeze, and he grunted. For a minute she was worried she'd hurt him, but he spoke.

"I want a cheeseburger," he mumbled against her shoulder.

A burst of laughter escaped her throat. "Ok."

They parted only to slide into their respective sides of the car. She sat primly in her seat behind Happy, legs crossed and hands in her lap. She couldn't ignore the lump in her own throat when she spoke. "Take us to the hospital, please, Happy." The second time she'd asked him to do so, and she wished it hadn't even been once.

"No," Tony said darkly from his seat, and she looked over him. His smile was gone.

"No? You have to go to the hospital. Tony, the doctor has to look at you."

"No is a complete answer. I don't have to do anything. There are two things I want to do. I want an American Cheeseburger," he repeated, making sure she understood. "And the other…" His eyes glinted and she scoffed.

"That's enough of that," she said, mostly because Happy was listening.

"…is exactly what you think it is. Oh, and I'd like you to call for a press conference."

Her eyes bulged, the moment broken. "A press conference? Tony, whatever for?"

"Yep. Hogan, drive. Cheeseburger first."

She sighed as the car set into motion. She pulled out her Blackberry to get to work. It took no time to set up his press conference; the entire media universe was abuzz with the news that he'd been found and everyone wanted the first chance at any statement he would release.

She finished with a sigh and slid her phone back into her purse. She watched the scenery pass. Empty canyon, but somehow it didn't seem as empty to her anymore.

She felt his eyes on her and turned.

One corner of his mouth was curved upwards, in that quirky smirk she loved and missed so much. His hand rested in between them on the middle seat, an invitation. It only took her seconds to understand and she shifted closer, where his hand had been. His arm came around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. She leaned in comfortably, nestling her head against his shoulder.

The rough scruff of his face scratched her temple, and she glanced up at him. She grinned and ran a hand over his chin. "You need a shave."

"Says you," he shot back, teasing.

There were a few, peaceful moments of silence. She just rested comfortably in the feeling of his arm around her, his breath in her hair. Finally, after almost giving up all hope, she had him back. She wasn't sure how, or why. She wasn't yet sure what he'd been through, but he was here, and that all she really needed to know at the moment.

After a few minutes, he leaned forward to press the button that controlled the privacy glass, bringing up the tinted barrier between them and Happy.

"Tony…" she asked, pulling away.

His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt, and she gawked. "Tony! We can't…"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Potts. I have to show you something."

She remembered feeling the hard..thing…in his chest when she hugged him, and instantly she was curious.

He pulled the material aside to reveal a metal orb at the center of his chest, emitting a faint blue glow. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but that wasn't it. Her eyes changed from curious to frightened. What had they done to him?

Her fingers reached out towards the blue glow, but she thought better and pulled back, instead pressing her fingertips to her mouth.

"No, its fine. You can touch it."

But she shook her head, the single curl loose from her ponytail bouncing against her cheek. Her eyes were bright, crystal blue and almost tearful. He realized that she might be scared of him, and he felt a part of him break. As if there was anything left to break.

"What is it?" she asked softly, almost a whisper.

"It's a miniaturized arc reactor."

Her eyes flew up to meet his. "You mean you…you made that?"

He nodded, and looked down at the ring. He hadn't really formulated how to explain it yet, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to go into details.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Happy's knuckles rapped against the window, grabbing their attention.

He quickly buttoned his shirt and fixed his tie before lowering the glass.

"What do you want to eat, boss?"

Neither of them had noticed they were already in the Burger King drive thru.

Tony cleared his throat. "Two double cheeseburgers. Fries, too. And a Coke."

He looked back to Pepper, who still looked bewildered. He glanced away. It was a mistake showing it to her. He should've waited.

The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek. "I'll explain after. I promise."

She sat back in her seat and tried to gather her thoughts. They pulled up to Stark Industries much sooner than expected, and she was unprepared for the wave of reporters and journalists all shouting and clamoring for the first sight of him.

-O-O-O-

"Are you out of your mind?" she gasped once they got back in the Rolls.

"Nope. You've always wanted me to make a move in the best interest of the company. And now I am," he said, certainty unwavering.

"What? But you…and we…You can't…"

He stopped her stammering. "I can do whatever I want. I'm CEO."

Her open mouth snapped closed.

Tony had just decided, most likely on a whim, that the entire weapons manufacturing division was to be closed. The press went wild like a pack of angry bulls. She hoped he had a shovel to dig them out of this hole, because the business world would most definitely not receive this well.

"Are you sure about all this? I mean…"

"Pepper, I've never been surer of anything in my life." Then he smiled. "Except you." His hand came to rest on her stocking-clad knee, and she blushed.

"Well…well…" she stammered, pulling a folder into her lap. "We have a lot of work to do, now don't we?"

-O-O-O-

She had fallen asleep on the couch, lying on her side, face pressed against her laptop keyboard, one arm draped over her head. She was exhausted.

He'd been in the workshop since they arrived at home, not that she had any time to spend with him anyways. She was busy drafting statements and letters to business partners, board members, and employees. She'd been typing away practically nonstop since they arrived.

But now, Tony found her, at 3am, her cheek pressing a steady stream of zzzzzzz's onto the document she'd been editing.

He took a moment to observe her. She wasn't sleeping like he remembered; peaceful and serene, hand tucked neatly beneath her chin. It looked as if she'd just collapsed face first against the computer without warning. Her hair was a tangled mess, not neat as a pin as it usually was.

Something was wrong. He'd noticed it from the moment he'd gotten off the plane. Anyone else would've missed it, but it was right beneath the blue of her eyes, just far enough out of sight that she could easily hide it.

He knelt beside her. "Pepper, honey…" he said softly, trailing a hand along her arm.

"Mmm…?" she mumbled shortly. He smiled. She never liked being woken up unless it was her alarm.

"I don't think the couch is the right place to be catching up on your z's," he smirked at his own joke, and glanced at the computer screen.

She jolted awake, and picked her head up off the keyboard. "Oh. Gosh. I've got to finish this."

"Can it wait a few hours? I mean…I haven't gotten to kiss you yet…" He smiled.

She turned from the computer, and he wasted no time in leaning forward to press his lips to hers, tender but protracted. He turned his head, changing the angle. She relaxed, lifting a hand to the back of his neck.

And it was like the very first time. Like they were back on her driveway in North Carolina, and he felt every synapse fire in his brain, even those that he forgot existed.

But when he tried to deepen the kiss, she gave the tiniest of whimpers that made him pull back. It could've passed as need, but he knew it wasn't. It was pained.

When he looked at her, she wouldn't meet his eyes, but stared down at her keyboard.

"What is it, Pepper?" he asked softly.

Her breath shook. "I just…" He mouth opened and closed. She wanted to tell him…she tried…but the words wouldn't move from her brain to her tongue.

"I just really missed you," she answered, and finally looked up at him. The blue in her eyes turned cloudy with tears.

He could tell that wasn't it. "You know you can tell me anything?"

She shifted upright, and hesitated a moment before closing her laptop.

Her hands reached for him, and he gladly took them. She slid from the couch into his arms, into his lap on the floor, and he held her tight.

"I just…" she breathed, and he shushed her.

"It's ok, you don't have to say anything right now," he assured her, his fingers combing through her mess of red hair.

She silently thanked him when her breath blew against his neck in relief. Her fingers traced around the rim of the reactor in curiosity. He might as well explain; she was just going ask eventually.

"Um…" he began, shifting her in his lap. "When I was captured…They just attacked us while we were driving, and I didn't know what to do…I don't know why I ran…I just did." He shrugged. "I was just trying to get somewhere safe, out of the line of fire. Trying to save myself…" Bitterness was thick in his voice. He should've helped them. Helped the soldiers that had given their own lives for his. But he'd left them as his scapegoats.

"A bomb exploded beside me…and I tried to get away, but the shrapnel imbedded into my chest." He shook his head. It was more painful than he wanted it to be. He couldn't talk about it yet.

Pepper brushed a hand under his chin, against the unshaven stubble on his cheek. He turned to meet her eyes. When he did, tears just barely brimmed over her lashes and streaked down her cheeks.

"You don't have to say anything right now," she told him with a small smile.

He smiled back, if only for a second. They were both hurting. They were both in pain. Now was the perfect opportunity to rebuild themselves together.

He swiped his fingers under her eyes, clearing away the tears. "Pepper. I realized something over there, and I'm not just talking about realizing I don't want to make weapons anymore. I realized that there is never a day that goes by that I don't want to wake up beside you. You're my everything, Pep. And it might've taken me three months in the dessert to figure it all out…but I know now. And I want to change things."

She nodded. "I know. I saw the bar." She took a slow breath, and exhaled. "It isn't going to be easy," she said, and he was unsure if she was speaking to him or to herself.

"I've got three gigajoules per second running through my heart right now. I think that's enough for both of us."

Pepper stared at him, her eyes searching his for a moment until she found exactly what she was searching for.

Her head bent to press against his shoulder, and his eyes closed at the feeling of her soft hair against his neck.

"I love you so much," she said slowly, thickly.

Of course she'd said it a million times. But it had been so long, and even longer since she'd said it first. Tony would take the secret to his grave, but he wasn't able to make himself deny the tear that formed at the corner of his eye. If she never spoke any other words than those for the rest of his life, he'd be satisfied.

-O-O-O-

AN: I hope you enjoyed. I hope Tony wasn't too soft...he just loves his Pepper...I think he needed that moment to tell her without any funny business or sarcasm. He's really trying this time. :)


	9. Safe

AN: Oh gosh. I think I've done a very, very bad thing. I've made addicts out of some of you. I literally started getting reviews nine minutes after I posted that last chapter. You guys are the best. I didn't think it was all that great….buttttttt…apparently you thought different. You rock my socks.

This is a tad shorter than usual, but you will probably enjoy it just the same, I hope.

-O-O-O-

_Safe – Miranda Lambert_

-O-O-O-

There were two things he missed most: the smell of Chanel perfume and the feel of her worn UCLA t-shirt under his fingers. It wasn't cheeseburgers—even though those were good, and he'd eaten his share since he'd been home. It was her.

He knew she hated to be woken up, but he was getting impatient. It was nearly nine, and he'd been awake fifteen minutes already. A short period of time for some, but he was getting antsy.

Rarely did he get the chance to watch her while she slept. She was always up before him, leaving him grumbling and searching for her warmth. But when he did, it was absolutely beautiful. She slept on her side, all curled up with her hands under her chin and that glorious red hair spread all over his Egyptian cotton sheets, stamping them with the scent of water lilies and ocean breeze. Whatever the hell that was, he didn't know, but it smelled good.

He watched her shift, and took the opportunity to pull himself up over her.

She groaned. "Not now…" she said, half asleep.

He pressed a kiss to her throat. "You can try and resist, Potts, but we both know who will win this fight."

She chuckled softly, turning her face away, eyes still closed.

"Let the record show that over twelve years of courtship, you have never once won the battle against _not _having morning sex. Though I could stand to wait, if you want to go brush your teeth first."

"That's rude," she said, and pressed her palms to his shoulders, trying to push him off.

"Can we get some donuts?" he asked.

She laughed. "I think you have more cravings than I do." Instantly, she wanted to swallow her words, but her throat tightened.

He looked down at her, confused.

Her finger tips ran along his shoulder. "Um…yeah. Let me get a shower, and I'll go get some." She managed to crawl out of bed and close the bathroom door before he asked questions.

-O-O-O-

If he wasn't already a self-proclaimed genius, he would have 'proclaimed' it now. This was his best work. Ever. Or it would be, if Dummy got his stupid claw out his way.

"Just stop. You're of absolutely no help," he said, working around the bot to get his soldering iron where he wanted it.

The robot let out a dejected whir.

He finished and laid down the tool, admiring his work on the first boot for his armor. "Yup. That'll do," he muttered to himself, satisfied.

This was his best work yet, without a doubt. Completely different than anything before, but fitting in so many ways.

He couldn't even tell Pepper yet. She'd flip her lid if she knew he was even _thinking _about putting _himself_ inside a giant suit of armor and flying halfway around the world to take on terror firsthand. For now, he'd just tell her these were new technologies to fill the gap left by weapons manufacturing. After all, in its simplest form, it was the truth.

Obie was pissed, though trying to play it off casually. He'd left for New York to meet with the board, and was attempting to handle the stock drop. But Tony couldn't trust him with this. Obie had always had that tendency to take ideas into his own hands. He always had that sly way of taking the wheel when Tony wasn't looking. He couldn't let him do that with this. He needed to know this was secure.

He needed to do this. To avenge the soldiers that had died the day he was captured. For the many that had fallen at the hands of his own weapons. He needed to do this for the world. He wasn't going to be known as an iron monger the rest of his life. If Obadiah was comfortable living that legacy, that was his own business. Tony was living for more now.

Pepper let herself into the workshop, carrying a plastic bag of Chinese take-out.

"Lunchtime," she chirped.

He hadn't even realized how hungry he was. He turned from his work and moved for the couch at the opposite end of the shop. He started unloading the cartons and she perched in one of the chairs, typing on her Blackberry.

"You aren't eating?" he asked, snapping the chopsticks apart.

"No, you go ahead," she answered without looking up.

He took a huge bite of Chow Mein and threw her a look. She had been acting weird for days. Now she was refusing take-out. Something was definitely wrong.

"Something you want to share with the class, Pepper?" he mumbled through his food.

She looked up. "What?"

He sat on the couch, and finished chewing before speaking again. "You've been sleeping past your alarm. You've been quiet as a bird. You're snubbing Chinese food. And what was all this business about cravings the other day? I think you have something to say, you just don't want to tell me."

She stared at the floor for a long time before looking up at him. There was that look again. That faraway look that was so pained and broken.

"What's wrong, Pepper?" he insisted quietly.

She blinked, only once, and silent tears streamed in rivers down her cheeks. She was crying again. Why did he always have to make her cry?

"I really don't want to tell you right now," she whispered, even though she knew she would have to. Truthfully, she'd been searching for the right moment for days. There had been plenty, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell him.

She wiped her own tears, and stood primly, chin up.

She headed for the counter near the refrigerator, searching for a tissue, only coming up with the heavy duty towels he used to clean up oil spills. The fibers scratched roughly against her cheeks.

She was trying to put on a front. Trying to be that strong person she'd been before he left, but she couldn't face the fact that she needed to deal with this. She had to tell him sometime.

"Pepper, what are you not telling me?" He pressed, his voice dark. She didn't realize he'd stood from the couch and was now behind her.

"I was pregnant, Tony," she blurted. "I was pregnant, and I lost the baby."

"What?" he said, his voice a whisper.

She couldn't bear to look at him. "I'm so sorry…"

"Pepper…"

She took in a breath, feeling the tsunami in her stomach again. "It was a miracle I got pregnant in the first place. I wasn't eating right, and I was so stressed. Tony…I kill…"

"No," he said sternly, sounding almost angry. "_Don't _say that."

Hesitantly, she turned. She was expecting to see him with fists clenched, eyes black like they were when anger overtook him. But he just looked hurt. Like someone had ripped his heart out.

Literally, they had.

She couldn't bear the meet his eyes. She searched the floor, as if she could find words of explanation written there somewhere.

His hands came to her cheeks, tilting her face up. "It was not your fault, Pepper."

"Yes it was. I…"

"No. It was never your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

She hiccupped, trying to hold herself together.

"You're going to be a great mother, Pepper. Whenever that time is, you're going to spoil that kid rotten and she's probably going to be biggest brat alive, but who cares? That just means you love her."

Pepper let out a burst of laughter through her tears.

"And I will love her. It wasn't the right time, Pepper. But next time it will be."

She glanced back at the floor. "I don't think…I don't think I'll be ready to try again for a long time."

He nodded, understanding. "That's fine. When you want to, we will make the most beautiful children this world has ever seen. And that's me being modest." He tried to lighten the mood, and smirked.

She laughed and wiped her face again. "I'm sorry I've been such a mess lately. You need me to be here for you."

"It's understandable. We're both a little screwed up right now." His arms hooked around her waist, drawing her in.

Her palms smoothed his t-shirt against his shoulders, taking in the familiar, bitter scent of motor oil that he always carried.

She sniffled, drawing herself together. "When did you get so sentimental, Stark?" she teased.

"What do you mean? I've always been this big of a sap."

She rolled her eyes. "Go eat your lunch, before it gets cold."

"Yes, mother." He gave a dramatic sigh and turned back to his food. "Sesame Chicken?" He asked, holding out a box to her.

She smiled. "Don't mind if I do." She moved to sit next to him on the couch.

"There's only one pair of chop-sticks, but I don't mind if you do either." He threw an arm around her shoulders and nudged her closer.

-O-O-O-

She sighed and leaned back into the couch, a mug of tea balanced in her hands. Her sleeping schedule wasn't exactly back on track yet, just further proof that thing were not ok yet. She found herself lying awake during the night, unsure of what had woken her up. She hadn't been to her apartment in the nine days that Tony had been home. The place was almost taboo now; if she went there, Tony might turn up missing again. She knew the fear was irrational, but she couldn't bear to leave him alone anymore. Not after three months of hell.

Whatever had happened over there—she didn't know all the details yet, nor did she really want to—he was completely different. She could tell there was something that hadn't been there before. A drive to do something bigger, better, and not just the need to produce the latest technology before anyone else had the chance. Whatever he'd been doing in the workshop was huge. She didn't ask questions. She just hoped he wasn't planning something completely insane.

No. What a silly thought. This was Tony Stark. Of course he was.

These was no doubt this was going to cause even more trouble, be unreasonably dangerous, and probably lose their good standing with the military—though, that had already been done away with when he closed weapons manufacturing. But she wouldn't argue. He needed to do this—whatever it was.

A howl of pain jolted her out of her thoughts, and she bolted onto her feet.

She was halfway up the stairs when it came again.

"STOP! PLEASE! STOP! PEPPER!"

When she reached the bedroom, he was twisted in the blankets, kicking his legs to try and get free. His hands clawed at his chest, and she heard his fingernails screech over the slick metal of the reactor.

"Tony!" She crossed the room in three strides and grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his chest. "Tony! Wake up!"

He let out another yell, and trashed for a moment before jolting awake. Sweat was slick against his face, his eyes wild. "Pepper," he breathed.

"Hey, I'm right here," she said softly, bringing up a hand to his hair. "I'm right here…"

His eyes flickered to her, and before she could protest he had pulled her flush against him.

"Tony!" she squeaked in surprise.

His breath was heavy, his diaphragm pulsing against her side. "They killed you…They…"

"Shhh…I'm fine. You were having a nightmare. Let me get you some water." She tried to pull away, but he held fast to her.

"No." he croaked. "Don't leave me."

His voice was so desperate and pleading, so small that she didn't resist.

She shifted so she was lying on her side. He did the same, pulling her against him again.

Her hands went through his damp hair, pushing it off his face.

"They were putting it in," he breathed. "It felt so real…like it was happening all over again."

"Shh…" she said, leaned in to kiss his cheek. "It was just a dream. You're safe."

His arm tightened around her at the word. Safety. Something he'd never had.

They rested in silence until his breathing evened out.

She was unprepared for the tightness in her voice when she spoke. "You can't leave me ever again. You know that, right?"

He chuckled dully, almost seriously, but there was a hint of a smile. "Same goes for you, Potts."

She cuddled into his chest, ducking her head under his chin. The light from the arc reactor was bright and luminous. Her fingers lightly pressed against it, finally. She wasn't sure if it hurt him still and she'd been scared at first. But it was a part of him, and she'd take it—all or nothing.

The metal was cool against her lips, sending a shiver through her. Her fingers traced the outside rim. She heard and felt his breath hitch in his chest.

"Whoa." He exhaled, and she laughed, burying her head against his shoulder. "Ok. New rule. You do that every day."

She smiled. "Won't it lose its clout after a while?"

"Impossible."

She relaxed against him and let out a soft hum. "Try and get some sleep," she urged. "I'll be right here."

"Now you're quoting _E.T._?" he quizzed.

"Go to sleep, Tony."


	10. Oklahoma Sky

AN: In Tony's love letter, he uses the less-than-three symbol for HEART, but the site won't let that happen for some reason. Just imagine that it's there.

_-O-O-O-_

_Oklahoma Sky – Miranda Lambert_

-O-O-O-

Slowly, her world was becoming normal again. There was still a lot of rebuilding to do, but things were getting better. And weirder. _Very weird._

She slipped into her BMW that morning, and found a yellow sticky note taped above the air vent. No doubt he had stolen it from her desk. "_Wild Thing, you make my HEART sing, you make everything groovy,"_ he'd written The Troggs' lyrics in his horrible handwriting. To anyone else it would've been incomprehensible, but she was an expert at deciphering Tony-scratch.

She pulled her cell phone from her purse and sent him a quick text. _"Did you really just use a 'less-than-three' symbol? Are you five?"_

In no time, he texted back: _"Actually, I'm 31 and ¾. And I'm not talking about my age."_

"_Charming," _she answered, and turned over the engine. Her phone binged softly as she drove, but didn't check the message until she pulled into the lot.

"_That's my middle name,"_ he had typed.

She just rolled her eyes and headed for her office. When she arrived, there was a huge bouquet practically occupying a quarter of the desk, pink lilies and roses, filling up the office with their fresh scent. She smiled and stepped forward, plucking the note from the little plastic rod at the center of the bouquet.

"_Move in?" _it read.

She didn't even try to hide her smile. She went on with her usual duties, answering emails and phone calls. She was caught in the middle of a very important conference call when her computer indicated she had a new email. Suddenly, she lost all interest in the call when she read his name in the source line. She held the phone against her shoulder and opened the notification.

"_Lunch?"_

"_One question at a time, Mr. Stark,"_ she replied.

"_So does that mean yes to both?"_ he answered within five minutes, with an animated emoticon. An emoticon? He never used those.

She knew this new sappy-lovestruck Stark would eventually crack. She concluded he'd finally gone off the deep end.

"_Burger King?"_

"_Why yes, I am,"_ he answered and she laughed into the phone, making the associates of Hewitt-Packard pause for a moment in their current debrief.

Eventually, she ended the call, agreeing to a meeting next week and gathered her purse to meet him.

As she stepped around her desk, her hip bumped the edge and sent a folder of paperwork fluttering to the floor, a mess of carbon paper and business cards.

She sighed and cursed under her breath. She bent to clean up the mess, and her office door sprang open at the same moment, making her jump.

"Do you understand me? It can't be that hard for a team of idiots like you to miniaturize. He did it alone, in three months. I'm coming down there later, and I expect you to have something for me," Obadiah was muttering into his cell phone.

He snapped the thing shut, and turned to smile down at her. "Good morning," he said, grinning ear to ear.

"Hi," she answered with the same polite smile before turning back to gather up the papers. She stuffed the stack back inside with no real order; she'd just have to sort through it later. One particular little square of cardstock caught her eye. Agent Coulson's card he'd given her the day of the press conference. At first, she had no intention of calling him back. She had so many other things to attend to, and hadn't gotten the time between phone calls from the DOD and CIA. But she found herself tucking the card in the front of the folder, in front of some very important paperwork and standing, clutching the folder as a barrier between her and Obie.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked sweetly.

"I came to ask a question."

He rounded the desk and she fought the urge to step back. She just didn't trust that smile.

Her phone chirped from her purse, a message from Tony. She ignored it.

"I was wondering if you could give Tony a little nudge. I need something to show the board…to get the ball rolling, and he's been so secretive lately. The last thing we need is more secrets, right?"

Pepper just nodded. "Of course, sir."

"And we all know the only one he listens to is you."

She smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

He nodded. "I knew I could rely on you, Miss Potts." He turned for the door, but Pepper stood frozen in her spot.

"Oh, and Pepper." He turned to face her. "I'm very sorry…about the baby."

She tried hide the fault in her smile, but wasn't sure if it worked. "Thank you."

Her phone chirped again as Obie exited the room. She retrieved it to read the two messages he'd sent.

"_Are we going or what?"_

"_Where are you?"_

She answered quickly. "_Something came up. I'll see you tonight."_

Without another beat, before she could convince herself otherwise, she plopped her purse back onto the floor and flipped open the folder, withdrawing the bit of cardstock from its pocket.

Coulson answered on the second ring.

"Agent Coulson? This is Pepper Potts with Stark Industries. I was hoping we could meet late next week? What day are you free?"

-O-O-O-

That night, the lights were dim in the mansion, the floor littered with a trail of red rose petals. She chuckled, but thanked Dummy when he wheeled his way over to pass her a glass of champagne. Yes, she thought, he _most certainly _had gone off the deep end.

She followed the path of petals to the glass door leading out to the pool. A bikini was looped around the door handle, so tiny that Pepper could practically feel the color creep over her cheeks at the sight of it.

A new air of confidence swelled inside of her and she stepped forward, hooking the bikini on one finger as she opened the door.

He was swimming the length of the pool, on his chest, lazily doing the breaststroke. She didn't bother to wait for him to face her.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, Mr. Stark, I would say you're trying to woo me."

He went rigid with surprise and turned in the water to face her. "Hi there," he smirked. "Wasn't expecting you to be home yet."

Home. She smiled at the word.

She slipped from her shoes and perched on the pool's edge, slipping her pink polished toes under water. "Oh, you were expecting someone else?" She quirked an eyebrow at him in jest.

"No, just you. You, you. Always you." His pressed a kiss to one of her knees and rested his elbows on them, water soaking into the hem of her skirt. She didn't mind. Instead she took a sip of her champagne.

"This is quite a nice welcome home party," she smiled, hooking her ankles around his sides. "I'm beginning to think you did something bad."

"I can, if that's what you want." He grinned devilishly and she laughed.

His wet hand came to her neck to pull her down for a kiss. She reciprocated, but when he tugged her further towards the water, she pressed her palms against his shoulders, stopping him.

"This suit is dry clean only, Stark. Pull me in and die," she threatened.

He just chuckled wickedly against her lips.

"I'm going to change," she said, pulling her legs from the water. He whined comically in response and flicked a few drops of water at her legs.

She slipped into the mansion to change into the bathing suit he'd left on the door. When she returned, he was floating on his back, the reactor like a blue flame floating on the water.

She executed a flawless swam dive, resurfacing next to him. "This bikini would be better suited in Brazil, not your backyard," she said, hooking her arms around his neck.

He just sniffed in response. "Our backyard," he amended. "You can take it off if you want." His fingers worked at the pins in her bun that she'd forgotten to remove.

"Patience is virtue," she said sweetly, and leaned in to kiss him. "I called Agent Coulson today," she told him when they broke apart.

"That's nice," he hummed, obviously not the least bit interested, and silenced her with another kiss.

-O-O-O-

After sharing a pizza, he showed her down to the workshop, leading her by the hand down the stairs.

"Really, Tony. What's all this about?"

"I just have something to show you, that's all."

He punched in the code, and pulled open the door. He had changed the layout, she noticed, but she assumed that wasn't what he was so excited about.

"OK," he prompted her, "Sit over there." He gestured to one of the tables and she obeyed. He stepped over to the center of the garage, where the area had been cleared. He lifted his arms and threw her smirk.

"What are you…" she began, but stopped short when the floor opened up and robotic arms dropped from the ceiling and began encasing his arms in intricate armor, each layer specifically designed and purposed.

The entire process took only a minute, but Pepper stared wide-mouthed for what felt like hours as each bit and screw was set into place. The armor tapered to his body perfectly, making him appear taller, larger, and ominous. The chrome exterior glinted in the fluorescent lighting, and Pepper could almost detect her reflection in the torso. The machines stopped just short of clicking the face plate into place and retracted back up into the ceiling.

Tony stood, all smiles, full of pride with his work. His armored hands met his hips and one heavy foot clanked against the concrete flooring.

"Oh my God," Pepper breathed.

"Cool huh?" Tony smirked.

"Cool? _Cool?_ Oh my God, Tony." She panicked. "I think you've really done it. You've really gone crazy. I'm calling a therapist…"

"I thought you'd be excited."

"Excited? About a giant suit of armor? What are you doing with it anyways?"

Tony inspected one armored hand, casually clinking his fingers against his metal-encased palm. "You know, go catch some bad guys. The usual."

"Oh, no. No you aren't actually going to…"

"Yes, I am, Pepper." His smile dropped and he looked back up at her.

"No," she answered sternly, not taking this as a joke anymore. "You're going to kill yourself, Tony." She stood. "And I'm not going to be a part of it."

She turned for the door.

"The world needs someone willing to die for them, Pepper. If I don't do this, who else will?"

She sighed and stopped, her hand on the door handle. She faced him again and sucked in a breath. He was absolutely right, and she couldn't deny it. Something had changed in him for the better, and she wouldn't stop him from doing the one worthy thing he'd ever done.

"You're insane, y'know?"

He grinned and shrugged. The armor whirred at his movement. "Aren't we all?"

-O-O-O-

The next evening, she arrived home with a splitting headache and sore feet. As soon as she entered the mansion, she toed out of her heels and ventured to one of the guest bedrooms where her closet was. His own closet had been much too full already to accommodate her clothing; she'd never seen a man with so many outfits. The arrangement was a little annoying, since she had to keep her clothes in a completely separate area from the place where she slept, but there was no whittling down his own collection, and she'd been hard pressed to part with a single shoe from her own.

She downed three ibeprophen for her headache and descended the stairs, just wanting to collapse on the couch in peace.

"Hey, Potts!" his voice echoed from the living area, loud and making her cringe.

"Tony, I'm really not in the…"

She was cut short by a ball of pure white fluff bounding towards her bare feet.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "Hello there. Hi," she cooed at the puppy, lifting it from the floor and letting its little pink tongue lap at her chin.

She laughed, and turned to Tony. "What is this? Or should I say, who is this?" She held the puppy out at arms length. It yipped happily and wiggled its front paws at her, wanting to be held close again.

"Well, the pound named her Daisy, but we could change that," he said from the couch.

"Oh, Tony," she laughed and released the puff ball onto the floor again. Daisy scampered away, little toenails skittering along the marble, back to Tony's feet.

He scooped her up and held her under his chin. "I thought you might need a friend while I'm gone."

"Gone?" she asked, but then remembered. That giant, hulking suit of armor he had downstairs. "Oh," she said quietly, and crossed the room to sit next to him.

Daisy jumped from lap to lap, energy never waning down until she finally settled between the two of them, curled up like a plush powdered donut.

Pepper reached out to stroke her fur. "I like Daisy. The name, I mean. You can't go changing a dog's name halfway through their lives. That's just mean."

Daisy let out a content sigh and snuggled closer to Pepper's thigh.

"I thought you'd want to name her Dolce. Or Gabbana?" he teased.

"Those are the Kardashian's dogs," she said with an eye roll and a smile.

"Well, you would know. You watch that show religiously. I only watch it with you because they're all hot. Even the mom. I wonder if she's a coug…"

She gave his arm a smack, successfully silencing him.

"Thank you." She leaned into his side.

"No prob, Potts. Gimme a smooch," he asked, and she did.

-O-O-O-

AN: Beginning to get a little action-y with her phone call to Coulson, don't you think? Hmm...we'll see. That pesky Obadiah. Tisk tisk. And Tony showed her the suit, oh dear!

And finished off with a scene of pure fluff, literally :)

Favorite and follows are great, but if you follow tell me WHY! Review! :)


	11. Who Am I Living For?

AN: A very long and action-filled chap. Enjoy, dears. And remember to log in please!

O-O-O-

_Who Am I Living For? – Katy Perry (a tad cheesy, but a total Tony-becoming-Iron-Man song)_

-O-O-O-

"Hey get your tongue out of there," Tony laughed and pushed Daisy away from his face where she'd just been licking at his lips. "Never thought I'd have to say that to a woman, but these lips are Potts Property only. Sorry, powder puff."

Pepper smiled from the bathroom, looking into the mirror at their reflection from behind her. Tony was propped up on the headboard, Daisy jumping at his face, trying to play.

She finished her makeup and stepped out of the bathroom. Her backless blue dress left Tony speechless.

"You…you look…Wow," he said.

"Not really an adjective, but almost. Tomorrow we'll work on nouns," she deadpanned, slipping into her shoes.

While she buckled the straps, Tony resumed his conversation with Daisy.

"Dosen't Mama look pretty? I think so. And she better not bring home any man tonight. You'll bite their leg off, won't you, you big bad watch dog?"

Pepper blushed, thankfully looking away from them. She scooped up her clutch and turned back to him. "Never thought of a terrier as a watch dog."

"'Course she's a watch dog. Just look at her. All menacing with that pink little tongue and those little tiny teeth. She'd snatch someone's leg right off, wouldn't you girl?"

Daisy just flipped on her back, wanting to be petted.

Pepper patted her round little belly. "You take care of Daddy tonight, and make sure he doesn't fall asleep in the lab again. We don't want his eyebrows getting singed off again."

"That was one time," Tony mumbled under his breath. "I'm taking the suit out for a test flight, so she'll be locked up in here tonight."

Daisy whined and pawed at Pepper. Her little brown eyes begged to be taken along. That same brown-eyed pout Tony gave her, except this one she actually—almost—gave in to.

"No, you little rascal. You've got to stay with Daddy."

"Take her with you, Pep. It'll be cute. Like Paris Hilton."

"Again, you fail at expressing adjectives. There are many words to describe Paris Hilton, and cute is not one of them."

Tony sniffed. "Well, have fun at your shin-dig. I'll just be here, all by my lonesome. Me, JARVIS, and the pooch."

"You'll live." She pressed a kiss to his forehead and crossed the room for the door. "And _don't _tear up the house with that suit."

"Cross my heart," he promised and flopped back against the pillows. Daisy pounced on his face.

"Just you and me here now, fur ball," he told her. She just clamped her tiny teeth around his nose.

He listened to Pepper's Prada heels click down the stairs until she reached the front door. He was immensely pleased she'd decided to move in with him. After all he'd put her through, he'd been scared that she wouldn't. But thankfully she saw the change.

Ever since the cave, his mind had been flashing back to that Chanel dress he bought in Paris, and just how excited she'd been. Of course, he'd seen her smile a million times. But never like that, and very few times since. Full and complete elation and…love. It was the best thing he'd ever laid eyes on. He'd never promised to himself that he would keep sober and faithful, because promises were too easily broken, especially when made to oneself. But things were different now. There was the suit, and Pepper. Nothing else. She mattered too much. He couldn't risk the one thing in life that made him happy, not after facing death.

He'd tried and tried to tag along with her to this Firefighter's Benefit, but the injunction kept him locked up in the mansion; the board had locked him out of the company and insisted he keep a low profile. Obadiah had notified him about the board's decision the day before. At first he'd been ticked. But it had just given him more time to do tests and upgrades on the armor. Besides, house arrest had never held him before.

As soon as he heard the front door close, he leapt up from the bed and pushed Daisy off to the side. "Sorry, Tinkerbell. But I've got work to do. Be a good girl."

Daisy pouted and whined, pawing at the blankets on the mattress as Tony turned out of the room. Once in the lab, he suited up and booted up, letting JARVIS run the usual tests and configure the suit.

"Test complete. Preparing to power down and run diagnostics," JARVIS answered, his voice crisp and clear inside the helmet.

"Yeah, tell you what. Do a weather and ATC check. Start listening in on ground control."

"Sir, there are still terabytes of calculations needed before an actual flight is…"

"JARVIS," he interrupted. "Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk. Ready? In three, two, one…"

-O-O-O-

"Ok, maybe a flight without those few terabytes was a mistake," Tony groaned as the machines pulled off the armor.

"At the risk of saying I told you so…" JARVIS interjected drolly.

Tony looked back toward the hole in the ceiling and his bruised and battered Shelby. He winced. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Poor car. Nothing I can't fix though."

"Sir, you've smashed the entire engine."

"Semantics." He stepped away from the robotic arms and rubbed his shoulder. "Need ice," he grumbled, limping for the stairs.

A loud barking and howling filtered in from the bedroom.

"Oops, I've upset the monster."

He iced his shoulder with a quick-fix bag of ice taped over his t-shirt, and hurried—as fast as he could with an aching back—for the bedroom.

Daisy was scratching at the door, and jumped at his pants legs when he finally let her out. He caught her just in time before she scampered away down the stairs. "Nope, sorry twerp. I think you should stay up here for the night. Dangerous stuff down there. Mama's going to have a heart attack when she sees it. I'll blame it on you though…"

He plopped her back on the bed and stretched his legs out next to her. He switched on the TV and leaned back. Daisy curled up between his knees.

Some blonde twit was giving the latest gossip on celebrities, but before Tony could change the channel, his own name caught his interest on the screen. "Tonight's red-hot red carpet is right here at the Disney Concert Hall, where Tony Stark's third annual benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund has become the place to be for L.A.'s high society."

Tony twisted his neck, snapping the vertebrates back into place from his crash landing. "Mama's probably having absolutely no fun without us," he mumbled to the terrier who just huffed in indifference.

This injunction thing sucked. Not only was he locked out of his own company, he couldn't even attend his own parties.

He'd been ready and willing to make an appearance at the Benefit, but Obie had insisted he lay low. Now he was stuck here with a bruised shoulder, a hole punched through two stories of his house, and a sleeping terrier on his knees.

He huffed and laid his head back against the headboard. What was stopping him? The suit was being painted, Daisy could survive the night locked up in the bathroom, and Obie would be pissed, but he'd get over it.

Tony stood, displacing Daisy and upsetting her, but she just snuggled back into the sheets.

He changed into his best Brioni, waved goodbye to the dog, and trotted back downstairs to the garage. He winced at the sight of the smashed piano and dust still hanging in the air. Hopefully Pepper wouldn't completely implode.

-O-O-O-

The party was just as boring as he'd imagined. But the woman in the blue dress was all he had eyes for. He brushed off several reporters and business men that tried to make conversation and headed straight for her.

She turned in surprise, ginger curls falling over one shoulder. "Tony, what are you doing here…"

"Let's dance," he cut her off. He swept her onto the floor and into his arms. She glanced around, obviously flushed and anxious.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to be here. Obadiah told you to…"

He shook his head. "Yeah, well Obadiah says a lot of things."

"Tony…" she said, still protesting.

"Its just cabin fever. I just wanted to dance with you. Is that alright?"

"Of course! Of course, its ok, but…" she began rambling. "This is your first public appearance since your disappearance. People are staring. They're going to want an explanation."

"And they'll get one, eventually," he answered. He swayed with her, pressing his hand against her bare back.

"This dress is gorgeous on you," he whispered into her ear. "Let's go on the roof…so I can make out with you."

Pepper let out a soft laugh. "Always so romantic."

He just grinned and tugged her toward the stairs, only stopping briefly at the bar to order martinis.

"That dog of yours bit my nose," he told her as they leaned together near the wall on the roof.

"You'll get over it."

"No, I don't think I will. She did permanent damage. Look." He leaned in closer.

She scoffed. "Tony, I don't see…"

He interrupted her with a kiss. She let his hand wander her back, enjoying the feeling of skin on skin. She knew this would end up in the tabloids tomorrow, but she didn't yet pull away. She tugged him closer by the lapel and felt his fingers dip just beneath the material on her back. She was almost ready to tell him to fetch his keys from the valet when…

"Ah…Excuse me." A leggy blonde, all dolled up and clutching a tape recorder interrupted them. "Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair. Can I get a reaction from you?"

Pepper certainly didn't have to hide her reaction. A blush crept over her cheeks at being caught like that, especially by a reporter. She turned to stare over the low wall at the red carpet below where Obadiah still stood chatting up the press.

"Uh…about…?" he pressed.

"About your company's involvement in this latest atrocity."

"Yeah, they just put my name on the invitation. I don't know what to tell you. Now if you'll excuse me…" He put a hand to Pepper's waist, attempting to lead her away.

"Ever heard of a town called Gulmira?" Carrie—Christine, whoever—made one last attempt.

Tony froze. Yinsen. That had been where Yinsen was from. Memories flooded back and Tony felt his stomach churn. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Christine shifted and retrieved a stack of photos from her clutch. "These were taken yesterday."

Tony took the stack, flipping through them. The pictures held images of guns and missiles of every kind stacked on the ground, being carried, a close-up of serial numbers. "I didn't approve any shipments," he said, glancing to Pepper in confusion, who looked equally as muddled.

"Well, your company did," Christine shot back.

"Well, I'm not my company," he sneered, less angry with her snappy remarks than with the images in hand.

He marched away, still clutching the photos. The journalist followed behind him, but Pepper stood stunned in silence watching them descend back down the stairs.

-O-O-O-

Rage. That was the word. Pure and simple. Betrayed was even better. It had been Obie all along. Obie approving shipments, Obie locking him out of the company.

He twisted the screw driver into the gauntlet like the knife twisted in the wound, flexing and bending his fingers.

Partners. Friends. So much for all that melodramatic bull. Obie had been handing out weapons this whole time. He'd completely crossed the line. He'd been reaping the benefits at innocent peoples' expense.

All these years, Tony had been comfortable with dealing out weapons, as long as they remained in the right hands. True, he'd never taken responsibility that these very same weapons killed countless people every day; he'd been the _Merchant of Death_, self-proclaimed and all. But he'd been blind then. Blind to the fact that these very same weapons were being used to kill the people they were meant to protect. And now that he knew the source, knew who was double-dealing, he knew exactly what needed to be done.

His spine snapped taut when he stood. He pointed the repulsor towards the glass doors, letting one quick beam shatter all three. The sound of glass crumbling and clinking satisfied him long enough to contain his anger and step forward toward so the bots could begin encasing him within the suit.

He had to put a stop to this.

-O-O-O-

Pepper stopped short, staring wide-mouthed at the trashed Steinway, and the rubble surrounding it from the collapsed ceiling. "Tony!" she roared. "What the hell did you do?"

She turned on heel, stomping furiously down the stairs to the workshop. The floor there was littered with broken glass, every pane shattered.

She peeked inside, but there was no sign of him in the dimmed workshop. JARVIS had been set to turn off the lights at fifteen minutes of inactivity. Fifteen minutes was more than enough for him to get himself into plenty of trouble, especially when he drove ninety miles an hours or more along the PCH. But every car was in place, even the Audi he'd driven to the party. But the Shelby was smashed and crunched beyond repair below the hole in the ceiling.

"Dammit, Tony," she cured to herself and headed back upstairs. Over the years, he'd left the house in various states of disarray, but never the workshop.

"Tony, what the hell is going on?" she tried again, but her voice just echoed against the empty glass walls.

Daisy barked upstairs, and she followed the sound. The tiny terrier jumped up at her and she scooped her into her arms. "Hey, girl. Where's Daddy, huh?"

The puppy seemed unphased and licked at Pepper's chin.

She plucked the phone from its cradle next to the bed and dialed Tony's cell.

"Hello?" he answered. The background was distorted with a loud thrumming and whooshing.

"Tony, where the hell are you? And what the hell happened to the house?"

"Uh, yeah. About that. Call the workmen tomorrow. I'm on a mission," he said passively.

"A mission? What does that even mean, Tony?"

"I'm in the suit, everything's fine," he answered dispassionately.

"What?" She overlapped him. "No, everything is most definitely not fine! You're flying around in the…that…death trap! And there's a giant hole in our ceiling!"

"I'll explain later. See you in twenty-four hours. You complete me."

"Twenty-four hours? Wha…? Tony…" But the line already clicked silent. She hung up the phone and eased back onto the bed.

Daisy turned on her back in Pepper's lap, little tongue poking out between her lips.

"Daddy has some serious explaining to do, right Daze?"

She just whinned in response, wanting to be petted.

-O-O-O-

Pepper arrived home a nine at night the next evening. The workmen had been at the house all day repairing the roof and floor. The piano had been hauled away and a new one had been ordered. The area was still taped off like a crime scene, and a giant hole still gaped in the center of the floor. The glass panels of the workshop were not set to arrive until the following morning. She'd swept up the glass that morning, and had even used the shop-vac to vacuum up the stairs and entire workshop floor.

She could hear JARVIS's voice from upstairs, and wandered to the workshop to investigate.

"Sir, the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt," JARVIS prompted, and she heard Tony's voice mumble something in response.

She stepped through one of the empty windows and looked up at him, hands shaking with anxiety at what she might find.

He was balanced sloppily on one leg while the bots peeled off his battered armor.

"A-are those bullet holes?" she gasped, her hands clenching into fists.

He glanced over his shoulder and she gasped again at the laceration on his forehead.

"Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

She could just watch helplessly while the bots finished their duties and Tony stumbled weakly from their grasp.

Pepper rushed forward to catch him, not doing much. He grasped her hands tightly, trying to hold himself upright.

"Tony, let's get you something to eat. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine, Pep. I'm fine." He said brightly, brushed her off and stood upright. "Just sore as hell…"

"Mr. Stark last ingested solid sustenance before the mission, twenty-five hours and seventeen minutes ago," JARVIS chirped.

"Loud mouth," Tony mumbled at the ceiling. "Really, Pep. I'm fine. Everything's fine. I just want to go to bed." He groaned and held his head.

"At least let me get you some ibuprophen," she said, following close behind him for the stairs.

He tried the door, but instead stepped through one of the empty windows. "K, sounds good," he agreed.

She ushered him to the bedroom, and ordered him to lay down. Daisy promptly jumped on his stomach, and he groaned. "Ow, that hurts," he groaned. Daisy pouted and cuddled up to his side, somehow understanding the pain in his eyes.

He sighed and buried his nose in her soft fur, though it wasn't as good as certain ginger strands. Instantly, his body relaxed into the familiar comfort of the mattress and he was beat. He fought to hold his eyes open while he waited for Pepper.

He heard her in the bathroom, running the tap and unscrewing the lid on a pill bottle. She hurried back to him, and handed him four tablets and set the glass on the bedside table.

She slid onto the side of the bed, and tore open the wrappings from a piece of gauze for his forehead.

"Don't want a band-aid," he whined, sounding exhausted now.

"Then you shouldn't have gotten cut up," she answered curtly, leaning forward to tape the strip over the cut.

He huffed and let her finish without further protest.

"You scared the hell out of me, Tony," she breathed, sitting up and taking his hand. There were several lacerations there too. They reminded her of the ones he'd had after his parents' car crash, though not nearly as many nor as deep.

"Scared the hell out of the Air Force too," he chuckled triumphantly, but the sound was gravely in his weary voice.

"Next time, you tell me before you just fly off into an active war zone, deal?"

"Deal." He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, cuddling Daisy against his chest.

Pepper watched him briefly. She heard his breathing even out, and watched Daisy's fur displaced at his gentle snuffles. She smirked at the thought that the dog was more of a present to himself than to her. He coddled her more than Pepper did. She knew, when the time came, he'd make an excellent father. The traits weren't all there yet, but there was attentiveness, focus, and care all mixed in there somewhere.

She stood from the bed and discarded his water glass before slipping into bed beside him. She slipped an arm around him, Daisy pressed between them.

This suit would be the death of her. But she could never ask him to stop. In all truth, Tony was self-destructive, and always would be. He threw himself into his work at full force, without caution for the consequences that might come to him. In her mind, that was insane. But she was slowly coming to see that despite the outrageous outcomes, there was always nobility there. Proof that Tony Stark had a heart.

-O-O-O-

AN: Very happy with this chapter. Hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

And hopefully you could fill in the blanks where I skipped time. I just didn't feel like rewriting the movie script over again when I wanted those things to remain the same (Tony's first flight, Obadiah telling Tony about the injunction, meeting with Obadiah at the party, the Air Force sighting the suit, etc.). And someone also asked if Tony had already changed out the old reactor for the new one, like in the film. And yes, I assumed that he did. I'm sorry I didn't make that clearer, but again I don't want to rewrite the film word for word.

And as for Tony proposing…well…I have a plan. :)


	12. Dust Bowl Dance

_Dust Bowl Dance – Mumford and Sons_

-O-O-O-

Pepper closed up her files and stood from the head of the table. Once again, she had taken over Tony's managerial duties by attending all his meetings for the day while he upgraded the suit. She didn't really mind so much, it took her mind off of things. Today her baby would've been due. The pain hadn't gone away, hadn't dulled at all. It was still relatively fresh, especially on this day. But it was getting easier to bear, and easier to imagine another child with Tony, especially since the change that his captivity had brought around. The next child would never hold the same place in her heart as Peanut had, but it would be theirs, and that was all that mattered.

She exited the conference room, and nearly slammed right into Obadiah who glared her down, shoulders square and jaw set.

"Excuse me, sir," she said politely.

His grimace dissolved somewhat, and his hands stuck in his pockets. "Ah, Pepper. How's Tony? Have you managed to get anything out of him?" He seemed a bit jittery while he spoke.

"No, I'm afraid not, sir. He's still focused on arc reactor technology," she said in an attempt to satiate him.

He hummed deep in his throat. "Of course he is," he grumbled to himself. "Thank you, Pepper. I'll attend to him, see what I can…pull out of him." He smirked and patted her shoulder, and she had to force herself not to flinch away.

She watched him pass down the hall. Everything he'd said was wrong and suspicious. She'd been suspicious of him ever since Tony's disappearance, and now she knew exactly why. Everything clicked into place, and all the pieces fit. She turned on heel for Tony's office.

Working for Tony and being so close with him all these years, it was impossible not to gain at least the rudimentary skills of computer hacking. He'd tried to explain source code to her, but that had been a complete waste. She did, however, manage to learn how to hack past Stark Industries' mainframe on the occasion of an emergency.

She slid into Tony's office and locked the doors before creeping behind his desk. Taking a deep breath, she began her work. She only hoped she remembered everything he'd taught her and that she didn't cause a security breach.

"What are you up to, Obadiah?" she muttered.

-O-O-O-

"You forgot about our appointment," Coulson answered, trying not to sound peeved.

"Nope, sure didn't. On my way now. Your office," she chirped brightly before hanging up and revving the engine.

Upon arriving at SHIELD headquarters, she was cleared by Coulson to enter after she entertained a very heated argument with the female agent at the front desk.

"What's going on?" he asked, meeting her in the lobby. She fell briskly into step beside him, following him to what she supposed what his office.

"Stane. Stane planned it all. And he's building a suit," she answered.

"A suit?" Coulson slipped into the chair behind the sturdy mahogany desk.

She didn't bother to sit. "Agent Coulson, I'm not sure how much you know, or don't know. And I'm not sure how much I'm at liberty to tell, but for Mr. Stark's safety, I must. Tony—Mr. Stark—he's built a suit. Not any dangerous kind of suit, but it is equipped with various weapons and he's using it to take down the people who have gained access to his weapons by underhanded dealings, all put into order by Obadiah Stane. He planned Tony's kidnapping so he could get rid of him, and he's been hounding Tony about plans for the arc reactor. Now I found plans that he's also attempting to build a suit, much bigger and powerful than Tony's. He's going to kill him, Coulson."

Coulson held up a hand. "How do you know all this?"

Pepper didn't even have to fumble in her neatly-kept purse. She pulled out the thumb drive onto which she'd saved every file she could find. "It's all there. The shipping manifests, the video made during his kidnapping, plans for the suit. All of it."

Coulson was silent a moment before taking the device from Pepper's hands. He inserted it into his own computer, and concentrated on the screen for a brief moment. The audio from the video began to play, and Pepper looked away. She couldn't stand to hear it again.

Thankfully, he didn't have to play the video in its entirety before he stood and tugged his jacket closer around him, as if steeling himself for battle. "Let's go," he said, brushing past her and out of the office.

-O-O-O-

The phone buzzing paused oddly for a moment, and Pepper spoke. "Tony? Tony, are you there?"

There was silence and then a click.

"Dammit." She hung up and dialed Rhodey's number while she led the pack of agents to where she'd parked her car. She quickly gave him the gist of the situation and urged him to go check on Tony before hanging up.

"I know a short cut," she told the agents without missing a beat and slipping into the driver's side of her car. Coulson slid into the passenger side.

"Here. I'll give this to you now," he said while she inserted her key into the ignition.

She looked down between them in the darkness of the car. She would not have recognized the pistol he held if it wasn't for the dim light filtering in from the parking garage.

No, she couldn't possibly…

"Agent, I don't know how…" she attempted lie.

"Yes, you do," he answered with a knowing smile.

A little hesitantly, her manicured fingers curled around the cool exterior of the gun. "How do you know…?" she began.

He grinned. "We're SHIELD. We know everything."

Her mouth open and closed in shock. "SHIELD," she confirmed in a whisper.

-O-O-O-

She watched in awe as the little disk exploded the lock on the door and it eased open in welcome for the six agents and herself. The men drew their guns, and she followed suit, if a little hesitantly. Her fingers shook when they fell into a ready-fire position around the pistol.

Her mouth dried and she felt dizzy. She wanted to turn back. This had _not_ been in her contract. But it was too late now. Instead, her shoulders squared. The weapon in her hands had at first felt foreign and weighted, but now stirred up a feeling of power and fearlessness. She took a final breath and followed behind Coulson into the abysmal darkness.

"You were right," Agent Coulson spoke, rounding the corner and facing a towering suit of tarnished and battered metal. "He built a suit."

"I thought it would be bigger," Pepper whispered. She turned, flexing her fingers around her weapon. The agents spread out over the area, guns at the ready. She ebbed away from the group, turning down a darkened walkway, exposed and dangling wires sparking and arcing around her.

At her own eye level, two bright white lights pierced the darkness. Eyes. The figure grew, towering over her, growing into a giant and hulking menace.

All the bravery that had swelled within her melted away instantly. The weapon in her hands was forgotten and she turned on heel. She made a break for the exit, not bothering to turn back and glimpse the various explosions behind her. She only registered the sound of whirring, booming footsteps. A colossal metal hand reached for her, but her last jolt of adrenaline carried her out the door and out of its reach.

She paused briefly outside the building, one hand holding the weapon against her chest as she tried to catch her breath, the other on her Bluetooth when it binged softly in her ear.

"Tony! Tony?" she shouted, pressing the button to answer.

"Pepper!" There was a gentle whooshing in the background that confirmed he was in the suit.

"Tony, it's Obadiah. He's gone insane. He's built a suit…and he's…" she rambled while he attempted to interject.

The ground behind her crumbled and cracked, but she didn't notice. She continued her explanation until a deep, rumbling chuckle sounded behind her. The armor whirred while it tore its way through the shredded asphalt.

She turned with a gasp, jumping back a few steps, Tony forgotten. The menace stood before her in full glory, immeasurably tall.

She let out a small scream before raising her weapon. The menace chuckled again. "You think your gun will do any damage to me, Pepper?" Obadiah's voice was even deeper and more thunderous through the suit. Unsure of what to do, she aimed her gun and fired a shot at his chest. The bullet bounced away as if it were made of rubber, and Stane laughed again.

"Pepper Potts…So beautiful. What a waste," he tutted, lifting a hand towards her, several mechanisms clicking into place, much more powerful than her borrowed pistol.

"Your services are no longer required," he thundered.

In one last attempt, she aimed high, pointing her pistol towards one of the glowing eyes, not really entirely sure where his head was located within the towering armor.

A white streak, like a comet, streamed across the darkened sky behind him and Tony's voice called out, successfully drawing his attention away from Pepper. Relief overcame her, but when the War Monger turned to instead fire at Tony, his giant hand collided against her side, knocking her to the damp and rough gravel like a rag doll.

Her head bounced painfully against the ground, and for a moment there were stars and a buzzing in her ears. Her Bluetooth crunched on impact, but she was left conscious. The gun fire seemed dulled and high-pitched due to the pain in her head. Through the sparks surrounding her, she watched one giant metal foot stomp over her gun, reducing the weapon to scrap metal.

Thinking quickly, she feigned unconsciousness, eyes closed tight, listening at the sounds of whirring and metal colliding as the two battled it out. When her hearing returned to normal, the two were gone. She could hear the dulled sounds of their mêlée now on the nearby highway. She took the opportunity to stand, and just caught a glimpse of the two of them rising into the sky, Stane's suit like a meteor compared to Tony's tiny comet. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

She squinted up at the sky and watched them climb, higher and higher until the War Monger was sent plummeting back to earth. Her hands flew to her mouth as Tony's own armor followed suit, his repulsors flickering on and off.

He was going to die, and there was nothing she could do but watch.

A small scream jumped from her throat when Tony collided with the roof nearby. She could no longer see him, but his voice crackled softly in her impaired Bluetooth. "Potts," his voice was quiet and calm.

"Tony!" She panicked. "Are you ok?"

"I'm almost out of power. I gotta get out of this thing. I'll be right there."

His voice quieted and there was more shouting and whirring from nearby as the siege continued. She stood helpless until his voice came again.

"Potts, this isn't working. We're going to have to overload the reactor and blast the roof."

She glanced through the shattered glass wall where the arc reactor thrummed and buzzed, colored lines filtering evenly along its orb. It hummed on, undaunted by the battle overhead.

"How are you going to do that?" she asked.

"You're going to do it." She didn't have time to protest. "Go to the central console, open up all the circuits. When I get clear of the roof, I'll let you know. You're going to hit the master bypass button. It's going to fry everything up here."

Her heels scratched against the damp asphalt as she stepped forward. "Ok, I'm going in now," she answered, voice shaking. She could hack a computer, but this thing was outside her skill level. She didn't want to press the wrong thing at the wrong time and risk killing Tony…or anyone else that might still be inside. She wasn't sure where the agents had gone to, and they only briefly crossed her mind as she began pulling levers and pressing buttons.

"Its ready, Tony. Get off the roof!" she shouted into her headset.

She waited only minutes, and Tony came into view, his body skittering along the glass panes of the roof. He attempted to stand and she watched him block a shower of gunfire.

The roof shattered, glass raining down around her and she bent to cover her head. When she dared to glance back up, Tony was dangling by one arm from the roof, his body threatening to fall right down into the reactor's gullet.

"Pepper! Time to push the button!" he shouted.

"You told me not to!" she screamed back. She couldn't, not when he was still on the roof.

"Just do it!"

"You'll die!"

"Push it!"

She hesitated. No. There was no way she could. He would die, and there would be nothing. Her fingers hovered over the button, knowing if she didn't push it, War Monger would certainly kill him first. At least this way, he could attempt some sort of Houdini escape route instead of getting shot or plummeting to his death inside the reactor.

Her fingers slammed the button and she ran for it, covering her head, ears ringing again with a new noise emitted from the reactor as it imploded on itself.

It seemed like hours, the blast and the beam of light never ceasing, though it was only seconds. Her hands clamped over her ears as she watched the explosion from outside. "Tony!" she screamed, her voice shrill in her own ears. Coulson's hand suddenly clamped around her arm and she turned with a jolt.

She suddenly realized that the whole thing was over. The blast, the light; everything was silent now.

"Tony…we have to get Tony," she breathed.

-O-O-O-

Everything was bright. Too bright. A hand clamped over his face in an attempt to block it all out.

"Tony…? Tony…" a voice whispered nearby. For a moment, it sounded like his mother, and he was young again, a little boy woken up from a terrible nightmare. Then it was her, always her and his eyes slowly opened. The florescent light overhead made him squint blearily.

"Ugh…no hospitals," he groaned and turned away from the voice.

"I know, I know." Fingers brushed his cheek. "But we had to. You almost died, Tony."

"The arc reactor…"

"It's fine. Rhodey took care of it. The doctors were told that it was a pacemaker, and they were not to touch it." She assumed, at least, that that was the reactor he was talking about. Not the one that had left half of Malibu without electricity for the last seven hours after its demise.

He shifted to face her. There was a bandage below her ear, but other than that she seemed unharmed. She still smiled, her hair pulled back into a careless ponytail, blue eyes brimmed with tears.

"You're hurt," he observed, his voice thin.

"Just a scratch. From when I was knocked down. Nothing horrible. They didn't even have to admit me." She didn't mention the minor concussion or the bandage on her forearm. Other than that, she was unscathed. He was the one with the bruised ribs and various scrapes and cuts on his face and body from being tossed like a bull dog's chew toy.

"I don't like you being hurt," he said, his jaw squaring.

She opened her mouth to reciprocate, but the door opened and Happy entered, trailed by Rhodey. "Brought you some clothes, boss," Happy announced, holding out a stack of soft cotton.

"Oh, good. We're going home," he confirmed, rising from the bed. Pepper rushed to help him, but he brushed her off.

"I'm fine, Pep," he persisted, and stood on wobbly legs. This time, Rhodey's strong hand clasped his, steadying him. The papery hospital gown didn't pass his knees. "Oh, hey Rhodester. Does this dress make me look fat?" he quipped, and Rhodey just grinned in response.

"Do something like this, again, Stark, and I'm going to have to intervene," he warned.

"Sorry, this is a one man show. Hey, Pep, do we have a press conference set up yet?"

"A press conference? Tony, you need…" Pepper began.

But Agent Coulson breezed in the door, trailed by two other agents. "Not to worry, Miss Potts. We've got it covered."

-O-O-O-

"You're not Iron Man."

"Am so…" He clamped the card between his teeth so she could help him into his jacket.

"You're not," she droned, smoothing the material along his shoulders.

"Suit yourself. You know, if I were Iron Man, I'd have this…wife who knew my true identity. She'd be a wreck, because she'd always be worrying that I was gonna die, yet proud of the man I'd become. She'd…support me, and give me a kiss for good luck when I left. And when I came back, she'd jump wildly into my arms and tell me how valiant I was."

His head tilted, his eyes locked with hers, and his smile reached his eyes. His voice softened. "But then, she'd keep me grounded because she'd still yell at me for leaving my socks in the hall way, or not clearing up after the dog when she pooped."

Her head swam, but she was sure this time wasn't because of her concussion.

"What are you talking about?" she feigned bemusement, straightening his pocket square.

"What do you think I'm talking about?" he grinned, flashing his pearly whites.

Her hands planted on his shoulders and she gave a business-like smile. "I _think_ you need to concentrate on memorizing your alibi."

His lips thinned, and he gave a frustrated look, but sarcastic enough to keep her smiling. "Fine, you don't want to…"

She silenced him, her hands clasping around his neck, pulling him down to her level for a kiss. She held him there a moment, her short nails trailing along his cheek, her other hand deftly buttoning his suit jacket.

When she pulled away, her hands braced against his shoulders again and she took a little pride in the dazed expression on his face and his hooded lids. "Go get 'em, boss," she encouraged and his grin doubled in size, his brown eyes twinkling.

He turned to leave the office, and she followed. She could've sworn, as they boarded the elevator for the ground floor, that his head had doubled in size as well. The suit of armor had changed nothing. This was the same old Tony.

"And now," Rhodey's voice sounded through the microphone as they approached. "Mr. Stark has prepared a statement."

Tony took the podium, insisting he would stick to the cards this time. Rhodey came to meet Pepper in the back of the room.

"How do you think he's holding up?" he whispered once he reached her.

"Just fine. Right back to normal. He pretty much just asked me to marry him…" Pepper involuntarily blushed and turned back down to her Blackberry in an attempt to hide it.

"Well, why don't you?" Rhodey whispered, and she looked back up him, eyes wide. She hadn't really considered the issue of marriage. At least not seriously. They didn't need marriage. Things were fine the way they were. But he'd become so different. Such a wonderful and new form of himself had emerged. Maybe she would consider it. Marriage seemed…right. It fit.

Tony's words caught her attention, making her glance back toward the crowd of reporters before him.

"The truth is…I am Iron Man."

Her head fell to her hands as the reporters shouted and swarmed. Maybe marriage would have to wait after all.

-O-O-O-

AN: Ok, so you're going to say it's unrealistic that Pepper knows how to hack computers, and could get in without Tony's help from the lock chip. But I wanted her to be able to have her own moment of heroism without anyone else's help, so there. But I'm still really nervous that you guys won't like this….

This is the last 'chapter.' Next will be three epilogue-like things. Not really sure what to call them, but since the story concentrated on Pepper and Tony's romantic relationship, I think they're necessary. One takes place after IM2, one before the Avengers, and one after the Avengers.

AND THEN! Due to high demand, I've got a little surprise for you all. A series of 'deleted scenes' to go along with these stories. Some scenes from M&H, some from WWL, and an 'alternate ending' of sorts. Please tune in for that. I will notify you of the title within the next few chapters. Thank you everybody! Love you all!


	13. Question

_Question – Old 97's_

-O-O-O-

"Look." He pointed to his lapel where his medal was pinned. "A pretty, shiny medal saying how brave I am. Not that I needed it. Everyone already knows." He shoved the bridge of his sunglasses up higher on his nose with one finger.

"Agreed…partially," she smirked. She leaned forward to unpin the thing.

Senator Stern had just—quite unpleasantly and resentfully—just given medals to both Rhodes and Tony for their outstanding service. Stark Expo, and inadvertently, the entire country, had been saved from Hammer's drones because of them. Though Lizzie threw a fit that Rhodey would even consider getting inside one of those suits, he had eventually convinced her that there was no harm done. The Stark Expo continued, and Pepper had not resigned as CEO, even after she threatened to do so. Now that Tony had relinquished the position, he didn't want it back; there was far too much going on with the Avenger Initiative and Iron Man that he really couldn't handle it, and she saw no need for him to.

After Obadiah's death, the company had adopted a green energy initiative and had been making huge advances in every technology imaginable: computers, engines, fuel cells, wind energy, solar energy and more. They had begun their very own line of Smartphones and tablets that put Apple to shame. They owned the most successful and largest field of intelli-crops in the business, providing food for all third world countries. They had even opened a charity fund in Maria Stark's name, arranged several Make-A-Wish meetings with Iron Man, and teamed up with SHIELD to further develop their stealth technology. All in all, Stark Industries was doing exceptionally well for having sprung back from a sudden stock drop after closing the weapons department.

Pepper pulled the medal gently from his jacket and laid it neatly on the bedside table. Tony had reserved—or rather, Pepper had reserved at Tony's request—a room at the Ritz for the few days they would be in DC. Pepper was grateful this was their last night; she couldn't wait to get home and see Daisy. Not to mention they were in the middle of the biggest buy-out they'd ever attempted and she had a lot of work to do.

He sniffed and looked over her shoulder at the clear afternoon sky. "Beautiful day," he observed.

Pepper smirked. He wasn't one to discuss the weather. She could tell he had something on his mind. "Yes, it is," she answered sweetly. She helped him out of his suit jacket.

"I think I want to marry you," he said while turned away from her, tugging his arms out of the sleeves.

She chuckled. "What?" She draped the jacket neatly over the nearby desk chair.

"White dress. Black tie. I don't need a reason why…"

"Those aren't the lyrics," she deadpanned, shooting down his lame ZZ Top reference.

"They could be. We could rewrite it." He tugged her down in a graceful flop onto the downy mattress. He didn't kiss her yet, but his fingers played with the chain on her neck—the sapphire she'd gotten on the island of St. Thomas a few years ago.

"So what do you say?"

"About breaking into the music business? Don't quit your day job."

He gave a low chuckle and pressed a kiss below her ear. "Will you marry me?"

Her breath hitched at hearing him ask the actual question.

"OK," she answered, and Tony grinned ear to ear. She slid his sunglasses off and flung them somewhere onto the floor.

"Hey. Those are designer."

"Shut up and kiss me, Stark," she ordered.

"Certainly," he said, pulling her body down flush against his.

"It only took you thirteen years to ask," she mumbled against his lips.

"Thirteen's my lucky number," he said, and pressed his lips to hers.

-O-O-O-

Unfiltered emails from SHIELD were a rarity. If they had anything to say, the information was usually carried to her directly by an agent, or a meeting was arranged. It was too risky to send emails without being certain who could get ahold of the information. But upon arrival back in Malibu, Pepper received an email the next Monday from Agent Coulson, insisting she meet with him to discuss becoming an honorary, unofficial part of the Avengers Initiative. She wasn't sure what to think. Iron Man had been accepted into the Initiative, but were they really in need of Pepper herself?

She closed out the window out of habit when Tony entered her office. "You're here," she observed in surprise and he sauntered inside, one hand in his pocket, the other swiping a candy from the bowl on the table.

"Yes," he answered, munching on the jellybean. "I sort of work here."

She fought the urge to reply with, 'Not recently,' and leaned back in her chair. "I have something to talk to you about."

His lips quirked into a smirk. "Oh. What a coincidence. Me too." He rounded her desk, standing near with that hand still in his pocket.

"Well, spit it out." She was sure whatever he had to say held no comparison to her own news.

She waited for him to say that Daisy had ruined the pure white carpet again, and her mind flashed back to a few months ago when she'd come home to a cereal bowl placed upside down on top of her latest present, as if that made it go away by magic.

Instead, his lips quirked again and he bent down beside her on one knee.

"I was gonna do this in front of everyone at the party tonight, but I figured you'd have enough reporters clamoring over you anyways, so I'll do it now."

She rolled her chair away a few inches, giving him space. He lifted the hand from his pocket, holding out a familiar robin's egg blue box with a white ribbon looped around it.

"Tony," she breathed, tears forming already.

"I know you already said yes. But I just love the fact that I'm going to spend forever with the _only _woman I've ever loved…so would you mind saying it again?" He opened the box, revealing a stunning platinum ring with a decent sized diamond, though not too big for her taste, and in a classic setting.

She laughed and dabbed at the tears in her eyes. "Oh my goodness…" she breathed. "Yes, of course. Yes."

He abandoned the box on the floor and slid the ring onto her right ring finger.

"Tony," she laughed. "That's the wrong hand."

But she didn't bother to fix his mistake or wait for him to do so. She just leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

-O-O-O-

Pepper had never really been the sole focus of the press's eye until her anointment as CEO, and that was only for a week until things had died down. For twelve years, she'd been satisfied to remain in his shadow, always the woman running things behind the scenes. When a reporter from Newsweek had called for an interview, she searched for a clear day on Tony's calendar. But the woman had asked if she would also be in attendance and Pepper had been taken aback.

She was used to dressing Tony for such occasions, but had no idea what she herself was supposed to wear. She stood in the middle of her closet, hands on her hips, scanning the rows of clothes.

"Hey, Pep," his voice sounded behind her, trying to get her attention. "Tie or no tie?"

"Tie," she confirmed, not turning from her clothes.

"If you say so," he said, and a silk, paisley printed scrap of material laced around her waist and he tugged her backward, flush against him. She leaned back into him, enjoying the comfort.

He pointed at a green dress close to the end of the row. "That one. It sets off your eyes."

"I'm the one that's supposed to pick out _your _clothes, not the other way around," she said, plucking the dress from the rod and turned in his arms. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and his hair still damp from his shower.

"I like helping. I could even help you get dressed, if you like." He began to pull at her yoga top.

She smirked and stepped out of his grasp. "Go iron your shirt if you like helping so much."

He scratched his head and looked at the row of shoes on the floor. "Hmmm. No. I'm not that kind of Iron Man." He swung his tie over his shoulder and exited the closet, swaggering back to the bedroom.

She shook her head and watched him walk. She couldn't believe he was allowing this woman to come to their house. Reporters had come to the office or been met at cafes and coffee shops, but never had they been allowed inside the mansion.

Once she'd dressed and primped her hair, she headed downstairs to straighten the living area. A new print of their wedding photo was framed and hung where the old Jackson Pollack had been. That piece now hung in the master bedroom; she'd been surprised to come home on her birthday and find it hanging there.

She smiled at the photo while she rearranged the pillows on the couch. She couldn't believe it was two months already. It had been business as usual since they got back from Venice and time had flown by.

"Pepperrrr!" his voice cried out from upstairs. "I need you!"

Yes, business as usual indeed. She hurried for the stairs, heels clicking against the marble floor. "Tony, you can't iron that on high heat, it's silk!" she shouted as she ran.

Crisis averted, shirt discarded, and a new one in place, the pair were ready by the time the young woman arrived from Newsweek.

Several questions in, Pepper was beginning to get the feel for being on the receiving end of the interview.

"You're quite a power couple. Has Pepper attributed to your company's success, Mr. Stark?" the woman asked.

"Yes, absolutely. More than I can possibly describe in an interview. She's saved the whole thing multiple times from going under. Without Pepper, none of us would be here. As CEO, she's given the company new direction, and made us even more successful than before. I really owe it all to her."

Pepper blushed, but the next question was directed her. "What's next on the agenda, Pepper?"

"Well, we're sticking to our green initiative, most definitely. Stark Industries…"

"Babies," Tony interrupted, a hand brushing over Pepper's stomach. She looked over at him, not sure she heard right.

"What?" she said breathlessly.

"Babies," he confirmed with a nod, moving his hand over hers so their rings touched. "That's next."

-O-O-O-

AN: The actual wedding will be written into the deleted scenes. Haha, my little tricky way of getting you to read it. That 'series' will be titled Fingerprints.


	14. Iron Man

AN: Have changed things around a lot in this because I didn't have an Avenger's script to go by. Where have all my reviewers gone? You can't bail out on me now :/

-O-O-O-

Iron Man – Vitamin String Quartet

-O-O-O-

Tony sauntered inside the Tower, hips swaying and arms swinging in accomplishment. "How does it feel it be a genius?" he asked the redhead currently leaned over various holograms and screens. She turned, tossing that gorgeous ginger hair over one shoulder.

"Well, I wouldn't know would I?" she quipped. She wore a plain white blouse and cut-off jeans, feet bare. He drank her in as he stepped closer. He never got tired of looking at that ring on her finger, glittering blue from the nearby hologram and she pressed her palms against the table.

Before he could reach her though, she flitted away to the bar at the opposite end of the room. She plucked a bottle of champagne from its bucket and poured one glass, taking another—already filled—from the counter top.

She crossed back to him, handing him the fresh glass and offering out her own for a toast.

"I think a celebration is in order," she said, clinking their glasses together.

"For your amazing work that you've done here," he congratulated. "Give yourself twelve percent of the credit."

"Twelve?" she cocked an eyebrow and feigned shock.

"An argument can be made for fifteen. I did all the heavy lifting. Literally, I lifted the heavy things…."

"No," she deadpanned, taking a sip from her glass.

"Come on, admit it. Stark Tower is your baby."

She lowered the glass from her lips, and flashed that smirk that meant she had something up her sleeve. So very different from that all-business smile she normally wore. "Funny that you say that."

He sipped his own glass, pursing his lips to savor the flavor before his eyes locked with hers. He watched the twinkle in her eyes and the slow blush that crept over her cheeks. One finger pointed at her. "You're…"

She grinned and gave a nod. "Indeed."

He tipped his glass towards hers, giving a questioning look. "But…"

"Apple juice," she told him, and took another sip.

"You're fantastic, you know that?"

"I've been told." She leaned in for a kiss.

He backed away for a moment. "Hey. The ego is my thing. No stealing." He pressed his lips to hers. "Cancel your trip to DC. You're in delicate condition. You'll stay home with me, and we can…"

"It's a business trip Tony, I can't cancel." She stretched out on the couch and he flopped next to her, pulling her feet into his lap.

"Yes, you can. I did it all the time when I was CEO. There's a bun in there, and it needs to be warmed." He pointed at her belly.

"I'm CEO now," she pointed out, "And I make the decisions here. I'm going to work until I decide to take leave."

He grunted in distaste and pulled his ringing phone from his pocket. "You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark, please leave a message."

"It's urgent," Coulson's voice came through the speaker.

"Then leave it urgently," he groaned.

The elevator doors at the opposite end of the room slid open. Pepper sprang up from the couch. "Phil!" she greeted him. "What can we do for you?"

"Security breach!" Tony attempted, standing from the couch.

"We've got a case for you," Coulson told him after greeting Pepper. He held out a black tablet, but Tony grimaced and leaned away. "Mm…I don't like to be handed things."

"Well, I love to be handed things. You take that." She handed her glass of apple juice to the agent and took the tablet from his hands. "And you take this." She passed it to Tony who threw her a reproachful look but headed over to the screens to inspect its contents, tail between his legs.

"We were celebrating," Pepper said, taking back her glass from the agent. She would offer him a drink, but she knew he wasn't staying long, nor did he drink when he was on business.

"Oh, yes. Congratulations, Pepper," Coulson replied.

"That's Mrs. Stark to you," Tony called. He hadn't even known Pepper was on a first name basis with him, let alone that she'd given him permission to call her Pepper. That was _not _ok.

"It's Pepper," she deadpanned in his direction. "And thank you, _Phil."_

"He knew before I did? Hmm…" Tony sniffed as he flipped through the files, enlarging them to his own screens.

"I was obligated to. My honorary SHIELD status permitted me to do so in order to be exempt from this mission," she replied politely, not a usual tone she would use with her husband, but he deserved it.

"So you knew about all this?" He questioned, gesturing toward the screens.

"Indeed. You've got a lot of work to do. I'll be leaving for DC tonight." She turned to Coulson. "Any chance you're going by La Guardia?"

"I could drop you," Coulson offered.

The two made for the elevator, but Tony's head snapped up from the screens. "Hey! Wait!" In three quick strides, he reached her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, perhaps a little too deep for company to witness. Pepper pulled away first, patting his chest to remind him.

"I love you," he whispered, not caring if Coulson heard, almost hoping he did. "And the baby."

She felt herself blush. "I love you, too. See you in a few weeks."

His hand brushed against her stomach briefly before she slipped in the elevator with Coulson.

-O-O-O-

She stared in horror, her hands around her stomach. He was doing it again. He was leaving her when she was most vulnerable. She clamped her eyes shut, tearing her gaze away from the TV screen. It was happening all over again, and this time she knew she couldn't survive it. Three months, not knowing if he was ever going to come back had been hard enough, but now, watching him die right before her eyes was even worse.

The chirping of her cell phone was barely audible under the TV audio and the hum of the jet engine, but she heard it all the same.

She snatched it up and flipped it open. "Tony? Oh my God, Tony. What are you…"

"I don't have much time. I gotta make this quick," he interrupted her. The speaker crackled in and out, threatening to lose signal at any moment. "I love you…and the….I'm so sor—" His voice in the speaker was distorted.

She didn't care how many people were around her. She didn't care if they were her assistants or board members, or only flight attendants. Their presence and their thoughts about her behavior were unimportant.

"Don't do this to me again. Please, Tony…" she begged, all the while knowing there was no other choice. He had to do this and there was no turning back now. "Please don't leave me like this…" She got the sinking feeling that he wasn't able to hear her.

"…important…" his voice continued. "She has to know what happened. I want her to…I can't…"

The phone beeped, indicating the call had been dropped. "No…." she breathed. "No." Her gaze fell back on the television and she watched the missile and the streak of gold and red disappear into the portal.

-O-O-O-

He'd been saved. With the help of the Hulk and his other teammates, he'd survived the fall. Pepper's finger jabbed furiously against the elevator button for their penthouse in the Upper East Side. Tony had kept the place, even though they now had Stark Tower. Judging by its current state, it was no place for a pregnant woman, and she'd gotten a driver to navigate two hours amongst closed roads and debris to bring her here. She wasn't even sure if he was here yet. JARVIS had been out of order since the suit lost power and the Tower had been damaged; she had no way of getting into contact with him or knowing where he was.

The doors finally slid open at their floor, and she found him sitting battered and bruised on the sofa, a tall glass of water in hand. She didn't even take notice of the other people in the room and charged at him.

"Pepper!" he said, attempting to stand, but one blow from her with a throw pillow sent him sinking back down.

"What the _hell _did you think you were doing? Are you out of your _mind? _I can't even _believe _that you would…!" She punctuated every other word with a blow from her pillow.

"Hey, Pepper…hey….ow! Pepper!" He attempted to duck out of her way, and finally his pleas snapped her back into reality. She scanned over his filthy face and torn neoprene suit, and the blood on his face and body.

"Oh, Tony. I'm so sorry! Let me see." Her voice was soft and she was immediately calm, leaning down to brush his hair out of his eyes and inspect his injuries.

"God, they don't lie when they say pregnant women are moody. Pepper, this is the team." Tony gestured around the room, and Pepper straightened up, facing the others that she had ignored.

Bruce was lounging in arm chair, adjacent to Steve's. Nat was perched primly on the love seat while Clint stood stoically behind. Thor was posed near the elevators, hammer in hand, and Pepper wondered how she even missed a man that huge. All of them were in various states of injury, nearly as haggard looking at Tony himself.

"Oh," she said, her face reddening. "Hello, all of you. Nice to meet you." She dropped her fluff-filled weapon back onto the sofa and folded her hands neatly in front of her, all smiles. "Would anyone like a drink?"


	15. Hundred More Years

_Hundred More Years – Francesca Battistelli_

_-O-O-O-_

"_I said I wanted daily pictures, Mrs. Stark. Where is my picture?"_

The text came at 9:36am, twenty-four minutes before the team was meant to gather and leave for another mission, location undisclosed.

She smiled at the phone, and shook her head. He insisted he was only slightly obsessed with the round shape her belly had taken six months into her pregnancy, but Tony Stark had a propensity for obsessions, and this was much more than minor, though harmless—and if she were being honest—incredibly endearing.

So, to appease him, she stood from her desk—previously his desk—and waddled across the room to lock the doors. It wasn't as if she were getting naked, but the last thing she needed was someone walking in while she was taking a picture of her own swollen, naked belly. Truthfully, she was quite self conscious. Tony insisted it was beautiful and she had no reason to be ashamed, but she felt like a whale and not even his kindest words could remedy that.

Back at her desk, she tugged her white blouse up over the bump and rested a few gentle fingers against it. She couldn't help the smile that spread over her face. Even though she felt like a giant sea creature, even she couldn't deny the way she felt when she looked down at the little bump. To think that a little life was there inside of her was breathtaking.

"Hello there, sweetheart," she whispered, stroking her fingers against the smooth skin.

A few more moments of wonder, and she readied the camera on her phone. "Say hello to Daddy."

She snapped a picture from the side, one manicured hand over the bump. The panoramic window of her office let in the bright Malibu sunlight and the back lot of SI headquarters. Deeming it sufficient—and absolutely heart warming, in her opinion—she sent it off and settled back in her chair.

"Ugh. You're making Mommy's feet hurt. I'm ready for you to come on out of there…"

She glanced down at her heels she still dared to wear. She knew exactly how her doctor felt about those things, but she was stubborn and wouldn't be daunted. She wouldn't be caught dead in flats around the office. Maybe in three months she would feel different.

Her phone chirped in response. She slid her finger along the screen and glanced at his message.

" :) "

-O-O-O-

He hated these places. Really hated them. There were too many memories on these blank walls, and not just his own. He remembered sitting with Pepper in a North Carolina hospital after her parents' death and the hysteria that ensued afterwards. They were dreary places, even this place which was supposed to happy and welcoming. He physically shrugged the thought off and went back to the chips in his lap.

Against all his doctor's wishes, he'd escaped his room, wheeled his drip down the hallways and joined the rest of his team in the waiting room. He might have sustained multiple injuries including three bruised ribs, several sets of stitches, and a tear in the tendon at his shoulder, but he wasn't going to miss the birth of his first child.

Bruce had gotten him a bag of chips from the nearby vending machine, and he'd gratefully accepted salty sustenance after the raging battle they'd just been involved in. Bruce and Steve were the only ones left unscathed—stupid super-humans.

Natasha and Clint were both being treated for gunshot wounds and were currently in surgery. The dummy had taken a bullet for her, and she'd reciprocated the favor, but her wound was of the alien persuasion and quite nasty and foreign to all routine medical assistance.

There was no doubt in Tony's mind that the tough, resigned woman would pull through. He'd seen her take a lot worse.

"Mr. Stark?" a female voice spoke behind him and he turned despite the pain in his ribs.

A sweet-looking young doctor stood clutching a clip board. "Your baby is in the nursery, if you'd like to see her."

Bruce stood to take hold of the handle of Tony's wheel chair, but instead Tony himself stood. "I got this," he tossed over his shoulder and took a few pained steps forward. When he exited the room, the pain lessened, and some other force projected him forward toward the wide window where the babies could be seen.

"Which one is she?" Bruce whispered, peering over the incubators and other pink and blue bundles.

But Stark saw her instantly. The tiny little one with pink socks and a pink little cap on the first row, _'Autumn Leigh Stark'_ taped across the front of her bassinet.

"Whoa, she's gorgeous," he breathed.

"How can you tell?" Bruce deadpanned, but Tony ignored him, lost staring at that cute little button nose.

"The Stark DNA is powerful. Yup, I did good."

"You? What about Pepper?" Steve prompted.

"Semantics." He quipped. "Speaking of which, I want to see her."

Pepper was sleeping when he entered, but lightly and she woke when he eased down on the mattress next to her.

"Hi," she rasped tiredly.

"Hello, Mama Stark."

Though she was tired and her makeup had long since been sweated off, she blushed and moved a hand over his.

"Did you see her?"

He nodded. "She's beautiful. We made one heck of a kid, Potts."

She grinned. She'd been Pepper Stark for a little over a year now, and he still called her Potts. Old habits were hard to kill, she supposed.

"When are they bringing her back in here?" he whispered, tracing a finger along her cheek.

"After they take her prints and all the basics checked out. How's Natasha?"

"Out of surgery. She's fine. Hawk's trying not to act worried."

She chuckle and closed her eyes again, nuzzling deeper into the rough sheets.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, standing to move for a chair, dragging his own drip behind him. "I'll wake you up when they bring her in."

A plump nurse finally brought in the sleeping little bundle almost an hour later and Tony immediately took her into his arms. She still wore her little pink cap, but Tony was absolutely dying to know what lay beneath it.

He wondered briefly if he should muss the work that the nurses had done. If taking off the cap would cause her to break into hysteric crying and wake the sleeping woman nearby. But he had to know.

He gently pushed it off, his own fingers feeling rough against the new baby's skin.

And there it was. Red. Crimson. Ginger. So soft and downy that not even feathers compared, nor the softness of her own mother's hair.

She let out a tiny whimper at the loss of warmth on her soft little head, and he shushed her quietly and covered where the cap had been with his fingers, then his nose and his lips.

He was in love. All over aagain.

-O-O-O-

Tony was reclined in a chair, holding the little bundle in his arms once again. He just couldn't get enough of her. Pepper had barely even gotten her turn.

"You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen." He cooed at her sleeping face. "Hey, Pep. Take a picture and post it to the Facebook page. Caption: 'The one and only woman in my life.'"

"Hmm. I thought I was your one and only," she said from behind a thick paperback novel.

"You're right. Caption: 'The one and only woman in my life. Close second: Pepper.'"

Pepper hummed in disapproval and folded her book closed. "Bring her over here."

Tony's face changed, and she had to laugh. He looked like a wounded little boy who had to give up a toy.

"Hey, I went through twenty hours of labor for her. Hand her over."

He stood reluctantly and laid her down against Pepper's chest, tucking her head neatly in the crook of her arm. She grinned up at him in surprise. He was already a natural.

He perched on the edge of the bed, not wanting to be away from either of them too long. "She looks just like you, Pep."

Pepper laughed and ghosted her fingers over the baby's cheeks and nose. "She has your nose," she offered.

"Yes, the signature Stark nose," he said with a hint of pride. "Looks more like a Potts button nose if you ask me."

"Whatever you say," she mused, and the door cracked open. Bruce's head poked inside tentatively. He almost left the room, but Tony spoke.

"Come in, you idiots."

The door was pushed open and they filed inside, Clint dutifully pushing Nat's wheelchair. "We came to see your bundle of joy," Steve offered.

"Oh, and not me? I'm hurt. I thought you were my friends."

Five pairs of eyes rolled simultaneously.

Tony was unprepared for the way his teammates would react to the child, but he passed her over anyways. Steve held her, Tony hovering over him while Thor and Bruce gazed over his shoulders.

"She's cute," Steve said, touching her little nose.

"Hey, chill out." Tony forced himself not to laugh at his own joke when no one else did. "None of that freaky Twilight stuff. Hand me back my child."

"I don't understand that reference." he muttered, and passed her on to Nat who just stared, unsure of what to do. Face unchanging, she passed the bundle back to Pepper.

"Ok, you've seen her. Now shoo. Pepper needs to rest." He hurried them all out the door, slamming it shut behind them.

"Phew. Sorry. They're very nosy. You know how band mates can be."

Pepper chuckled softly, but Tony guessed it wasn't because of him. Autumn had her little fingers around one of Pepper's. There was the smile again. The one he'd seen in Paris, but this wasn't about a priceless Chanel cocktail dress. This was their child, the embodiment of the both of them that he never had pictured in a thousand years. He leaned down to her and pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead.

"So…time to prepare for the next one?" he quizzed. Her glare caused his mouth to clamp shut.

He shrugged helplessly. "Too soon?"

She looked back to the baby and smiled again, tracing her fingers along her tiny toes. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he said softly and eased onto the mattress next to them, placed a hand on the new ginger hair that topped his daughter's head.

-O-O-O-

AN: And there you have it, dearies. It is finished. Now comes Fingerprints...or maybe some other Pepperony that I've just been dying to get out there. Either way, I'll be posting something soon. I love each and every one of you! Thank you so very much for sticking around. You have no idea :)


End file.
